


Origins

by LedaSF



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, Thor (Movies)
Genre: Backstory, Gen, Norse Mythology - Freeform, Some Myth Some Canon, This Explains So Much
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-05-21
Updated: 2016-09-21
Packaged: 2018-06-09 20:15:27
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 20
Words: 37,725
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6921451
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LedaSF/pseuds/LedaSF
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>This work is a mix of MCU canon, Norse myth, and my own imagination. The movies show us so little of the past, and this story contains my random imaginings and mythological inspirations to create a possible past.</p>
<p>I did go with Norse myth for the names of Loki's birth parents—Farbauti is his father, and Laufey is his mother. In the myths, Loki chose to use his mother's name for his last name (Laufeyson) due to childhood difficulties with his father, which works just as well in the MCU. It's always frustrated me that the writers at Marvel dropped the ball on this detail, so I am setting things to rights in this story.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. For Unto Us a Child Is Born

**Author's Note:**

  * For [ladymacbeth99](https://archiveofourown.org/users/ladymacbeth99/gifts).



> This work is a birthday gift to the lovely ladymacbeth99, who was the first to welcome me to the wonderful world of fanfic. I hope you enjoy the family drama, angst, and the Kid!Loki and Kid!Thor!
> 
> The chapter titles are taken from the text of Handel's "Messiah", with some alteration to fit the text. I have no explanation for that, other than jetlag-induced insomnia sparks unexpected mental connections.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The story must begin somewhere. We begin on Jotunheim, in the midst of the war with the Aesir.

“My King!”

All around him, the cries of the wounded and dying, both Aesir and Jotun, seemed to diminish as he heard the voice of his cousin and aide-de-camp.

“My King!” Sirel raced up and knelt before his liege.

“The Queen is delivered of a son. The boy is early, and small, but both he and the Queen are healthy and resting.”

In spite of the death surrounding them, Farbauti broke into a smile.

“This is excellent news, Sirel, and I thank you for it.” However much Farbauti, the husband and father, wished to be with his family, the duty of Farbauti the king was to remain on the battlefield with his troops.

“Please return to the Queen, and give her my love, and thanks. Tell her I will be with them as soon as I can.”

Sirel rose. “I shall carry the message, my King.”

* * *

Sirel had delivered the message to Laufey, and returned to fight at his King’s side. Farbauti appreciated Sirel’s constancy and calm, even in the face of the terrible odds of their battle with the Aesir.

A flash of light at the far edge of the battlefield caught Farbauti’s eye. What he saw cast a pall of dread over him.

More Einharjar had arrived. Again.

Every time Farbauti thought they had made progress in the battle, more Asgardians appeared. Farbauti wondered at Odin’s casual deployment of seemingly endless numbers of his own people.

“Sirel.” Farbauti pointed to the Bifrost site.

His aide’s eyes flickered for the briefest of moments. “We will defeat them, however many there are.”

“Yes, Sirel, we will.” Farbauti looked at the Bifrost, then back at his cousin.

“However, just in case it does not go our way,” Farbauti’s voice dropped. “Please take the Queen, and my son, to the Temple. He should be anointed as my heir, and then the Temple will give them sanctuary if the tide of this battle does not turn in our favor.”

Sirel looked at Farbauti. “My King! We will be victorious. I have no doubt.”

Farbauti put his hand on his aide’s shoulder. “Cousin, I wish to have no doubt. But we have deployed all of our troops, and the Aesir seem to have endless platoons. We must do all we can to ensure the safety of the Queen and Crown Prince.”

Sirel nodded. “I understand, cousin.” He bowed, and took his leave.

* * *

The doors of the Temple had been barred, and Farbauti’s personal guard had been stationed at the outside.

Laufey, still exhausted from the difficult and overly-long birth, held her son close to her, for reassurance of love in this time of war.

The priest and priestess had hurriedly prepared the altar. The ice candles glimmered in the darkness, casting erratic shadows over the small group of the Queen’s ladies and the Temple servants. The sounds of the battle were still distant, but closer than anyone wished to acknowledge.

The priestess addressed Laufey. “This is the child of our King and Queen?”

Laufey, despite her exhaustion and worry, kept her voice calm. “He is the child of your King and Queen.”

“The King is not here.” The priest was clearly displeased with this break from tradition.

Sirel stepped forward. “Your King is defending his people. I am here in his stead. This is the child of your King and Queen.”

The priest’s lips pursed a bit, but he continued. “And he is acknowledged as the first-born child, the Crown Prince, and Heir to the Throne of Jotunheim?”

Laufey kept her voice strong. “He is the first-born child, the Crown Prince, and Heir to the Throne of Jotunheim.”

Sirel wished the priest would hurry things along. The battle was definitely closing in to the vicinity of the Temple. “He is the first-born child, the Crown Prince, and Heir to the Throne of Jotunheim.”

“What is the child’s name?” The priest raised his voice to counteract the nearing sounds of fighting coming through the Temple walls.

Laufey sighed inwardly. She and Farbauti had not agreed on a name, even with all the months of expectation. “His name is ‘Vonir’.” _Hope is as good as name as any to give to a child in this circumstance._

“By the bones of Ymir, I consecrate you, Vonir, to the land of Jotunheim.” Laufey moved the blanket just far enough from the baby’s forehead for the priest to mark him with the ash made from the bones of the ancestors.

“By the blood of Ymir, I consecrate you, Vonir, to the crown of Jotunheim.” The priestess marked the baby’s forehead with the ceremonial blood of the ancestors.

“All hail Vonir, the son of our King and Queen, our Crown Prince, our Heir to the Throne of Jotunheim!” The priestess and priest called out together.

Before the small assembly could echo the pronouncement, Laufey swooned, and the gates of the Temple splintered.

“This way! Quickly!” The Temple staff formed a circle around the Queen, and made to rush her and her ladies to safety.

“Sirel,” the Queen called, weakly. “Take Vonir.”

There was no time to argue. He took the child from the Queen’s arms. Supported by the priest and her ladies, the Queen was led to one of the side passages, Sirel following, holding the baby.

Despite the support, Laufey stumbled, and fell to the ground. Blood seeped through her skirts as her ladies looked on in fear.

“I can go no further.” Laufey looked up at Sirel. “Guard the prince, cousin. Take care of my boy.”

Laufey laid her head on the priestess’ shoulder, and passed to join her ancestors.

The priest knelt next to Laufey, and he and the priestess began the Prayer for the Dead.

Sirel turned to the remaining Temple staff. “Get the Queen’s ladies to safety!”

Laufey’s attendants, weeping for their Queen, were shepherded down another passage.

Once he was certain they were on their way, Sirel pulled the baby close, and headed for the private chapel reserved for the use of the royal family. Behind it was a secret chamber known only to the King and Queen, and a few of the oldest clergy. Even Odin, with all his magic, would be unable to find it. Vonir would be safe.

* * *

Odin stood next to Tyr, and tried to take in the sight of so many bodies lying dead in this sacred space.

Tyr’s voice was low, and rough with grief. “My King, none were spared.”

Odin bowed his head. This was a grave insult to the Jotuns, and a terrible black mark on the Aesir.

He forced himself to walk the entire place with Tyr, seeing without blinders the havoc his soldiers had wrought.

Approaching a staircase, they found the bodies of a group of women, well-dressed and bejeweled.

He looked at Tyr. “Wives and daughters of the nobles. In the Temple for sanctuary.” Odin’s heart was heavy.

The bodies were surrounded by those of the Temple staff, dressed in simple robes.

Tyr’s voice shook with anger. “There is no honor in killing those who serve the Gods, my King.”

Odin nodded, unable to speak. What had happened that his men had lost all sense of honor? What rage had driven them to slay the guardians of this place, and those who had rightfully claimed sanctuary on this hallowed ground?

“We shall deal with them once we return to Asgard.”

The men continued up the passageway. A bit further on, they found three more victims. One, a well-dressed woman draped in furs, and another woman and a man in the ceremonial robes of the Temple.

Odin’s heart froze. He looked at Tyr.

“This can be no other but Laufey.”

Try nodded, filled with shame that Asgard’s army had killed not only the Temple residents and nobles who had sought sanctuary with them, but their enemy’s Queen. Such actions broke all the rules of combat. Members of the royal family were taken alive whenever possible, and held as hostages for bargaining during the treaty talks.

Odin knelt next to her, gently scanning with his magic for injuries. To his surprise, there were no marks on her anywhere. He ran his hands carefully over her fur-clad body, just outside her energy field. Well, where her energy field would have been, had she lived.

“What do we know of her, Tyr? She is dead, and yet, she bears no wounds.”

“She was a skilled magic-user. Perhaps the surface wounds healed, even as the blood loss was too great to sustain her life.”

Odin shook his head. “There are no wounds anywhere, not even under the skin, but there is significant blood loss.”

“We had reports that the Queen was with child. Perhaps the shock of the war brought her to an untimely birth.”

Odin nodded. “Very likely.” He thought of his own Queen, his beloved Frigga, and her recent miscarriage. “May the Gods bless her soul on its journey, and may she join her ancestors in glory.”

Tyr, for all of his dislike of their enemies, nonetheless respected the royal house, and the souls of the departed. “May she join her ancestors in glory.”

* * *

They had walked the entire Temple, and returned to the remains of the splintered gates.

“See to our dead, and theirs as well.” Odin sighed inwardly. He knew his men would resent showing any care for the Frost Giants, but it was a very small way to make things right in the face of having committed such a monstrous wrong.

“Yes, my King.” Tyr bowed, and took his leave.

Odin looked around the vast hall. Something had been going on at the time of the attack. The ice candles on the altar were lit, and even though the ceremonial items had been knocked from the altar, they had clearly been in use until that moment.

Odin closed his eyes. _Norns, guide me. Help me to clear this blood from Asgard’s hands._

Taking a deep breath, Odin opened his eyes, and walked the building again.

* * *

As he walked, he sent out his magic to sense for what remained hidden.

As he walked, his magic found nothing.

He reached the far end of the Temple, and stepped into a small chapel.

Paintings of kings and queens of Jotunheim lined the walls, with empty spaces in the arches closest to the door for those yet to be born.

Clearly, this was the private chapel for the royal family. Odin sent out a feeler, but found nothing. He closed his eye.

_Norns, guide me. Help me to do right for the innocent souls who suffered here._

Odin sensed the presence before he felt movement. He opened his eye to see a Frost Giant brandishing an ice sword.

“All-Father. What a surprise. The Fates have favored me this day.”

Sirel advanced on the Aesir King.

“Today has seen enough blood shed in this hallowed place. Let us not add further to it.” Odin knew this wasn’t Farbauti, as he was in custody, but was certain it was some member of Farbauti’s family.

“The only blood today yet requires is yours.” Sirel continued to move towards Odin.

“My blood will not set anything to right. Join me in making the peace.”

“The only peace I will make with you is sending you to the peace of Helheim!” Sirel launched himself into the air, blade extended.

“Helheim is not on my agenda for today.” Odin waved Gungnir, and Sirel froze in place.

“Nor is it on yours.” Odin patted the Frost Giant as he walked past. The man would stay locked into that position for an hour. When the spell wore off, he would be unharmed, and have no memory of what had transpired. Odin would have time to finish what he needed to do.

Odin walked the edge of the chapel, examining each painting, sensing for secrets. _Nothing._

He paused at the front of the chapel, and regarded the painting of Ymir and Audumhla.

Aeons ago, his own father and uncles had killed Ymir, and created realms out of the giant’s body. The great flood had killed many members of all the races, including many of the Aesir. Had Bergelmir and his small flotilla of giants not rescued Ask and Embla, even the humans would have been wiped out.

_We must do better. We have learned nothing in thousands of years.This cannot continue._

Odin turned for the door. Whatever he had hoped to find was eluding him, and he had no more time to pursue it. The battle was won, but now the real work of war began—clearing the aftermath. He knew his generals would manage most of it, but he knew it was equally important to the army to have their King active and visible during this phase, as much as any other part of the war.

Odin took a step, and stopped. He had to try, one last time.

_Norns, guide me._

Then he heard—a sound.

A sound he knew.

A sound made by a tired infant, fighting sleep.

Odin smiled.

He sent out his magic, a gold thread.

A slender blue thread reached towards him.

Odin followed it, and found himself staring at Ymir and Audumhla again.

He reached forward, and pressed the jewel over Ymir’s heart.

The panel swung inwards, revealing a small but well-furnished chamber.

In one of the chairs was a bundle of furs, and the blue thread came from them.

Odin cautiously followed the thread to the chair, where the thread pulled back into the furs.

Leaning over, Odin found himself regarded by two crimson eyes from a tiny pale blue face.

Odin recognized Farbauti’s markings, and what he assumed were ones from Laufey.

“Hello, little princess.” Odin spoke softly.

The infant looked up at Odin without blinking, and without fear.

Odin reached out to adjust the fur, and noticed the markings of blood and ash.

_Farbauti and Laufey’s newborn child._

Odin reached under the furs, and scooped the child into his arms.

The baby wriggled, and an arm broke free from its bundling. A small blue hand reached towards Odin, who caught it in his own large, pink hand.

Odin stroked the child’s face, looking at the marks of its royal family.

To his surprise, he saw the baby’s skin grow smooth, and pale. The lines disappeared, and the baby’s skin turned as pink and warm as that any of Aesir child. The crimson eyes glowed green, and softened into two bright orbs, gazing openly at him.

“You have great magic, little one.”

Possibilities flew past, faster than thought.

_Thank you, Norns._

Odin hid the child in his cloak and wrapped himself in a glamour of invisibility and silence, lest the child start crying. He hurried back to the main hall, carrying the fur-wrapped bundle close to his chest.

Stepping over the bodies of the fallen, he left the silent Temple.

The ice candles shattered, and the Temple was dark.

 


	2. Unto Us a Son is Given

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Odin returns briefly to Asgard to take the infant to safety, and finds he must make a slight change to his carefully-crafted plan.

* * *

Usually, Odin waited to return to Asgard with the the last of his soldiers. Today, however, he needed to make a brief trip back to Asgard before matters on Jotunheim were completed.

Heimdall said nothing as his King landed in the Observatory, and watched without a word as Odin hurried towards the palace.

Odin knew Heimdall would say nothing, regardless of what he had seen. After all, Heimdall was the Watcher, not the Speaker.

* * *

Odin swept into Frigga’s room, traces of snow still clinging to his hair and his cloak.

Frigga stood, and spoke crisply to her ladies. “Leave us.”

The women did not have to be told twice, and hastily bowed and made their exit.

“Odin, what is it? Are you injured?” Frigga’s quiet voice masked the worry that had gnawed at her insides during her husband’s absence. She was a skilled healer, but if he had been badly injured, he would need to go to the Healing Rooms.

“Frigga. My love.” Odin extended his right arm, and Frigga folded herself into him.

And felt something move under his cloak.

Odin smiled, and kissed his wife. He nodded, and she pulled back the cloak which covered his left arm.

Two bright green eyes shone out from under a mass of black curls. The pale little face lit up with a smile as the baby gazed at Frigga.

The Queen looked at her husband.

Odin nodded. “We have a daughter.”

Tears spilled from Frigga’s eyes as she gently took the baby from Odin’s arms and held it to her heart.

Losing her last child, so late in her pregnancy, had created a wound that would not heal. Now, holding this sweet babe in her arms, Frigga felt her heart regain its wholeness.

The very next moment, the Mother gave way to the Queen.

“Odin—the battle? What has happened?”

“Asgard is victorious, my Queen!” Odin’s smile spoke of victory, but his voice could not disguise his weariness.

“Our troops?”

“Some casualties, but not as many as feared. But—” Odin fell silent.

“But—what? What happened, Odin?”

“Let us sit, Frigga.” Odin guided her to the divan she had been sitting on when he arrived.

Odin recounted the story of walking through the Jotun Temple with Tyr, the disgraceful killings committed by the Asgardian army.

Frigga paled with anger. “War is one thing. Murder is another.”

“And they shall answer for their crimes.” Odin shook his head. “That will be the first order of business once all are returned home.”

“But this baby?” Frigga regarded the tiny creature in her arms, resting in its fur cocoon.

“The Norns guided me.” Odin finished the tale, and gazed at the baby as well.

“So, we are now guardians of Farbauti and Laufey’s only child.” Frigga’s voice was solemn. Farbauti had survived the battle, but lost his family.

“Yes. But he does not know his daughter lives.”

Frigga stared at her husband. “Odin, surely, you are not thinking—“

“A marriage alliance would bring about a permanent peace.”

“Odin.” Frigga looked her husband directly in the eye. “The people of Asgard would never accept a Frost Giant as Queen, any more than Farbauti’s folk would accept an Aesir King.”

Odin stood. “They have a thousand years to get used to the idea.”

The baby stretched, and the outer wrappings fell as the baby wriggled.

Odin stared, and Frigga laughed.

“Well, my love, I believe we have just found a flaw in your matchmaking plans.”

The little princess was actually a little prince.

“Hmph.” Odin stared as Frigga wrapped the child back in its blankets.

Frigga cooed to the infant. “We will raise him alongside Thor. They will be brothers. They will be best friends. They will create the alliance we need to make permanent peace with Jotunheim.”

Odin sighed. “It will do. Not as binding as a marriage. But it will have to do, and it means we will have to wait until they are older before we can tell Farbauti.”

“Odin, we should tell Farbauti that we have the boy. We can assure him that his princeling will be raised as Thor’s brother, and not a hostage. He will make peace with the idea once he realizes it means peace for the realms. If he thinks Asgard killed both his wife and his child, he will never accept peace.”

Odin shook his head. “You think like a person, and not a ruler.” Odin sighed. “If he knows we have the child, Farbauti will try everything to regain his son, and the wars will continue.”

Frigga stared coldly at Odin. “You are wrong, my King. Farbauti is a king and a warrior, but no king can entirely forget that he is a father. We should tell him.”

Odin’s eye went colorless. “We shall tell him when I deem it in Asgard’s best interests for him to know.”

Frigga recognized that expression. “As you wish, my lord.”

“The good of Asgard is our chief concern, and this will be for the best.”

Unable to look at Odin without anger, Frigga had turned her attention to the child, murmuring softly. “Welcome to Asgard, little one. This is your home, and we are your family. You will be happy and safe here.”

Her emotions back under control, Frigga looked back at Odin. “Does he have a name?”

Odin’s voice caught in his throat. “None were alive to speak it.”

“What is your name, little one?” Frigga cooed to the baby.

Two bright eyes opened, and gazed directly into Frigga’s eyes without blinking. She admired how the light made the green of his eyes dance like emerald flames.

“Loki, is it then? Very well, Loki. Welcome to Asgard. I am Frigga, your mother.” She leaned over, and bestowed a soft kiss on that sweet forehead. The baby cooed with delight, still gazing at Frigga.

She held him up, so he could see Odin. “And this is Odin, your Father.” Loki giggled, and Odin was uncertain how to respond.

“And you have a brother, Thor. You will meet him in the morning. It’s very late at night now, so he is asleep.” The baby cooed again, and snuggled close.

Months had passed since Odin had seen Frigga so serene and joyful. For a moment, he let himself be a husband, and not a king. He drank in the sight of his wife, his beloved, lit up with love for this child, filled with hope for the future. He permitted his heart to be warmed by the sight, bidding his mind hold this memory forever.

The moment passed, and duty once again fell onto his shoulders. “I must go, Frigga. Much remains to be settled on Jotunheim.”

She looked up from the child, and gazed lovingly at her husband. “I understand, my dear. Go, do what the King must do. Your family will be waiting when you return.”

She stood, and Odin wrapped his arms around her and the baby. “Welcome, little Loki. My son. Our son.”

Odin kissed his wife, and wrapping his cloak around him, strode out of the room and back to the Observatory.

 


	3. And His Name Shall Be Called "Brother"

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Frigga and Odin inform Eir of the sudden appearance of the new prince, and Thor meets his new brother.

* * *

Odin had returned in the deep of the night. Frigga had helped him remove his armor and prepared a hot bath for him. Now, he was asleep next to her, and she could relax. Her husband was home, and safe, and the worry that had robbed her of sleep during the war had dissipated.

Nonetheless, she found herself restless. She sat up quietly, and gazed at little Loki.

Sleeping peacefully in his crib, he was so perfect, he looked like a doll. Curly black hair, velvety eyelashes, and a sweet little bow for a mouth.

Frigga wondered how a blue-skinned, crimson-eyed Frost Giant’s child had turned into this pale figure.

She gently called on her seidr, and her fingertips glowed a soft lavender. She brushed the an errant curl back from the child’s forehead.

And saw a slender green strand of seidr spin up to meet her hand.

_This child is a powerful magician. Odin was not exaggerating._

She looked at the little prince, and wondered what he was dreaming.

Frigga kissed him gently, whispering, “I want all your dreams to be happy ones, my son.”

* * *

Despite the exhaustion of battle and worry, Odin and Frigga started their day even earlier than usual. Now that the war had ended, much business that had been deferred needed to be addressed, as well as the pressing matter of finalizing the treaty with Jotunheim to officially end the war. And the most important item had to be dealt with before the other residents of the palace awoke.

Frigga had intended to call for a wet nurse for Loki, expecting that the miscarriage would preclude any chance of her being able to nurse him herself. So she was quite surprised to wake in the morning with breasts aching and filled with milk, ready to nurse Loki.

“Love is the most powerful magic there is,” Odin commented as he stroked her hair and watched her holding Loki.

A knock on the door brought them out of the moment.

“I told the staff no one was to disturb us!” Odin’s annoyance was plain on his face.

Frigga spoke calmly. “That will be Eir. I sent her a message last night, and asked her to come before dawn.”

Odin sighed. “Yes, that was wise.”

He crossed the room, and opened the door for the healer to enter.

Eir took in the sight of the Queen holding an infant, nursing it, serene and calm. She bowed to the King and Queen.

“Your Majesty. How may I serve you?” Her voice contained not a single trace of curiosity.

Odin’s smile grew broad. “As we suspected, Eir, Her Majesty was again with child, having recovered from the prior—event. However, given that circumstance, we felt it wise to refrain from sharing the news until the Queen was closer to her time.”

Eir nodded. “The child is small.”

“He is, but healthy, in spite of his coming early.” Frigga’s smile was sweet, and firm.

“I congratulate Your Majesties on the healthy delivery of your newest family member, and give thanks to the Norns that Her Majesty’s pregnancy was fruitful, however brief,” Eir uttered without hesitation.

“Thank you, Eir. We are delighted, and will be making the happy announcement today. We will be certain to thank you for your care of the Queen during her lying-in this morning.” Odin’s smile was bright, and firm.

Eir nodded. “My greatest honor is to serve Asgard’s royal family.”

“Would you like me to check the child, my Queen?” Eir maintained her professional tone.

“I am certain he is well, Eir. We can take him to the Healing Rooms for his birth scan later today.”

“As you wish, Your Majesty.”

Frigga gestured to the table, where a light meal had been set. “Please, break your fast. We have had a long night.”

“Your Majesty is fortunate to have had an easy labor and a quick delivery.” Eir nodded, and seated herself at the table.

Frigga returned to nursing Loki, singing low the song she had learned from her mother when she was expecting Thor.

“I’ll be in my study, and join you at breakfast.” Odin kissed Frigga on the forehead, nodded to Eir, and left the room to the women.

* * *

Thor knew his father was home, and the prince had roused himself from his bed and dressed himself before Anna, his caretaker, had come to wake him.

“Let me brush your hair, Thor. You can’t go to your father looking like you have a haystack on top of your head!”

Thor sulkily stood still as Anna gently brushed out the sleep-snarls from his golden hair.

“There! Now you look like a proper Prince!” Anna stepped back to admire the boy.

Thor, however, had been patient long enough. He grabbed the nursemaid’s hand and raced out the door.

* * *

Anna had managed to slow him to a semi-civilized walking pace. As they approached the breakfast room, however, Thor dropped her hand and raced to Odin.

“Father! Father, you’re home!” Thor tugged at Odin’s arm, and Odin pulled the boy onto his lap.

“How was the war, Father? Was it glorious? Did you slay all of the monsters?” As a prince of Asgard, Thor was being raised on tales of military might and battle prowess, and had absorbed those principles to an extreme degree.

“We won, Thor. It was a hard battle, but not glorious.” Odin shook his head. “Your tutor will cover the lessons for you later this week.”

“But I want to hear about it from you, Father! The tales are so much more interesting when you tell them—you were _there_. Master Nils wasn’t, and he makes everything so dull.”

“Now, Thor. What have I told you about Master Nils?” Odin looked sternly at his firstborn.

Thor recited in his child’s sing-song voice, “Master Nils is a learned man and a good teacher, and he is as worthy of respect as the fiercest warrior.”

“And when are you going to take that lesson to heart?”

Thor sighed. “I am sorry, Father. I will try to do better.”

“That’s my son!” Odin hugged Thor to his chest, and Thor knew he had been forgiven. He kissed his father on the cheek, then slid off his lap. He was glad to see his father, but there were jam tarts that needed attention as well.

“Thor, we have one other exciting piece of news to tell you.” Frigga’s voice was clear and sweet.

“Yes, Mother?” Thor’s blue eyes looked up, unblinking, just as Loki’s green eyes had regarded her last night.

“Thor, do you remember that, a while ago, we told you that we were going to have a baby, and that you would have a brother?”

Thor was confused. They had told him that a while ago, and everyone had seemed very excited, but then one day they stopped talking about it, and no one mentioned it again.

“Yes, Mother. I remember.”

“I am happy to tell you that the day has come, and your little brother is here.”

Thor tried to understand what she meant, and gazed at his mother without comprehending.

Frigga held out her hand. “Come here, Thor.” She gestured to the basket on the chair next to her.

_Maybe brothers are like apples, and they come in baskets from the farm. Maybe that is what took so long._

Frigga put her arm around Thor, and pointed gently to the basket. “Be very quiet, you don’t want to scare him.”

Thor leaned over and looked into the basket.

A baby with curly black hair and bright green eyes stared back at him. The tiniest baby Thor had ever seen. Not that he’d seen many babies, but this one seemed especially small.

Frigga smiled. “Thor, this is your brother, Loki.”

Uncertain what to do, Thor waved at the creature in the basket. “Hello, Loki.”

To Thor’s surprise, the baby reached up and tried to grab Thor’s hand.

Frigga nodded. “It’s fine. You can let him touch you.”

Thor tried to be gentle as he put his hand into the basket. The baby reached up and grabbed his thumb, and burst into giggles.

Thor found himself laughing along with this strange little being.

Odin and Frigga watched their sons become acquainted with smiles and laughter.

Thor turned to Frigga. “He’s very small, isn’t he?”

“All babies are small, my dear. You were small once, as well!”

“But not this small?” Thor was perplexed, trying to imagine himself as a baby.

“No, not this small.”

Thor straightened. “And I am growing every day! I am Loki’s big brother, and I shall always take care of him, and protect him! I, Thor Odinson, pledge this, here and now, and always!”

Odin’s heart beat with love and pride for his oldest son. Thor had been a handful from the start—always on the move, a seemingly endless bundle of energy. But he was old enough now to start showing his personality, and Odin was relieved to see that all the discussions of honor and loyalty had taken root.

Frigga brushed Thor’s bangs out of his eyes. “That is very good of you, Thor. No matter how big he grows, Loki will always be smaller than you, so he needs you to protect him.” She paused. “And he will help you be wise.”

“And we will be kings together, and be the best kings the Nine Realms have ever known!” Thor stood up straighter, brandishing an imaginary sword. “Thor and Loki Odinson, brothers always!”

Frigga laughed with delight, and pulled her son close. “You will be the best big brother, ever.”

 


	4. And His Name Shall Be Called "Changeling"

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A few years have passed. Loki is now the Asgardian equivalent of a human two-year-old, and Thor is at the level of human six-year-old.
> 
> Thor has a slight mishap, which distracts Frigga long enough for Odin to do a bit of magical investigation regarding his younger son. It does not go exactly as Odin had planned.

 

* * *

“How is he?” Odin shifted nervously from one foot to the other, watching the healer tend his son.

“He will be fine, my King.” Eir smiled reassuringly. “Especially once he learns that leaping from the top of a tree is something he should work up to.”

Odin regarded his first-born, who was making a valiant effort to hold still as Eir did her work.

“I could have done it, Father!” Thor protested. “I _will_ learn how to fly!”

Odin’s attempt to suppress a smile was about as successful as Thor’s attempt to hold still. “I have every confidence you will, Thor. But you must be patient. You have to grow much taller so you can fly safely.”

Thor pondered his father’s words, and continued to watch Eir.

The rustle of skirts indicated Frigga’s presence, even before she spoke. In spite of the circumstances, Odin took the moment to appreciate his wife’s grace and his queen’s intensity.

Holding Loki to her, Frigga came to a stop next to Thor’s bed. Thor looked up, relieved to see his mother, and also a bit afraid. She had _that look_ , and it didn’t usually go well for him.

“Thor Odinson, we have talked about this.” Frigga drew herself up, and Thor remembered that her mother had been a giantess. “When you grow up to be a strong man, and have learned your lessons well, you _may_ learn how to fly, _if_ you are worthy of Mjolnir.”

Thor nodded, and blinked back tears.

“Part of being worthy is being wise.”

Thor nodded.

“And would you say that jumping from the top of a tree in the orchard before you can fly is a wise thing to do?”

Thor’s eyes widened. “No, mother. It was not a wise thing to do.”

Odin watched the exchange, covering his mouth with his sleeve and pretending to cough.

Frigga softened. “Good. You have learned an important lesson, and are now wiser than you were before.”

Thor relaxed, and his mother leaned down and kissed his forehead. “You must learn to be patient, Thor. “

“I will, Mother. I have learned my lesson. I will be the most patient boy in the Nine Realms, and grow up to be the wisest man in the Nine Realms.”

Odin was grateful to have Gungnir at his side, and took the opportunity to examine it very closely, so Thor could not see his father’s face. Knowing the mood Frigga was in, he didn’t dare try to cover his laughter with another coughing fit.

“Odin, I will stay here with Thor a while. Please take Loki and put him down for a nap.”

Her husband nodded. Odin knew the King had meetings scheduled, and Odin also knew that tone in his wife’s voice. The meetings could be rescheduled. Frigga’s irritation could not.

Odin carefully took the baby from her, and gave her a kiss on the forehead. “I will tend to Loki.”

“As for you, Thor,” Odin gazed solemnly at his oldest son. “You are to stay right here until your mother says you are well enough to get up. Not one minute before.”

Thor nodded. “Yes, Father.”

“And don’t even _think_ of asking her if you can get up.”

Thor nodded. He knew that both of his parents were very worried, and it was all his fault. The last thing he wanted to do was to worry them more. “Of course, Father.”

Holding Loki to his chest, Odin left the healing room.

* * *

As worried as he had been about Thor, his oldest son’s misadventures provided an opportunity for Odin to take care of something that had been on his mind since he brought Loki to Asgard. The child was rarely out of Frigga’s sight, and Odin needed Loki to himself for a time. Holding the sleeping boy, Odin turned to go, not to Frigga’s chambers, but to the Vault.

* * *

The guards quickly opened the door as Odin approached and wordlessly stepped into the Vault. The heavy doors closed firmly and quickly behind him.

Odin inspected the Vault regularly to ensure the continued presence of the collected treasures. While all of them were priceless objects, many were also incredibly powerful magical objects which, if wielded by unscrupulous users, could create havoc and destroy worlds.

As he walked the paths of the Vault, Odin mused on the most recent war with Jotunheim, which allowed Asgard to take possession of the Casket of Ancient Winters. He remembered Farbauti’s face, angry and defiant, as Odin’s guards sealed the chest which Odin had prepared to transport the Casket to Asgard. Not only had the Frost Giants suffered a terrible military defeat in their own land, their highest magic was being taken from them—a far more terrible defeat than merely losing a battle of armies.

Odin remembered Farbauti’s eyes, empty and hollow, mourning the loss of his wife and his newborn son. As a father, Odin pitied Farbauti, and had wanted to assure him that the young prince had survived; as a king, Odin distrusted Farbauti, and knew that doing so would only lead to further battles and bloodshed.

He dismissed thoughts of the other king, and came to a stop a few yards from the Casket. He watched as the light within it swirled slowly, listlessly, as though the energy it contained was bored by its captivity in the Vault.

He took a deep breath, and walked slowly towards the Casket.

Odin felt Loki stir in his arms, and looked down at his son, who was suddenly awake and looking at him with bright eyes unclouded by sleep.

Loki shifted in his father’s arms, and reached towards the Casket.

Odin continued to walk slowly towards it.

The light in the Casket began to pulse, throbbing like the heart of someone seeing a long-lost loved one after prolonged separation.

Loki reached towards the Casket, a thread of green seidhr winding its way forward. As it reached the Casket, the thread turned blue.

Odin stopped in front of the Casket, and Loki put his hands on it.

The child did not shriek, neither from the cold, nor from the surge of energy. Silently, Loki held his hands on the Casket, and Odin watched in fascination as his son resumed the Frost Giant form he had been born with, born the son of Laufey and Farbauti.

Loki’s hands glowed softly with blue seidhr energy, and he babbled at the Casket. He did not yet speak any language, and Odin wondered whether the child was attempting to speak the Aesir words he heard each day, or the Jotun language he had heard at birth.

Loki babbled, and the lights in the Casket swirled in a deliberate manner, responding to the child’s voice.

Despite his deep interest in where Loki’s magical bond with the Casket might lead, Odin also knew that unleashing a torrent of ice magic in the Vault—and the subsequent clean-up—was not what he had time to deal with today. He also did not relish the idea of having to explain it all to Frigga.

He gently lifted Loki’s hands from the Casket. Loki frowned, and reached back towards it.

Odin caught Loki’s hands to keep him from touching it. The blue seidhr still flowed from Loki’s hands towards the casket.

“Mine!” Loki struggled in Odin’s arms to regain contact with the Casket.

“Not yet, Loki.” Odin wrapped the boy in his cloak, and slowly backed away from the Casket.

Loki continued to squirm and shift in Odin’s arms. “Mine!”

The baby was frantic now, and Odin was surprised to find that he had to make real effort to keep Loki in his arms. “Not yet, Loki.”

“Home!” Loki was fighting Odin to keep the seidhr connection with the Casket. “Home!”

“You’re home, Loki. Here with your family.” Odin held the child tighter. This was not what he had expected, and he was not entirely sure what to do about it.

“Mine!” The child growled, a sound Odin had never heard before. “ _Mine!_ ”

Odin turned his back to the Casket, which was still pulsing with light. He hoped that losing sight of the Casket would calm Loki, or at least break the seidhr connection.

Loki did not calm down, but the blue threads immediately faded, and Loki began to resume his Aesir form. Odin sighed with more than a bit of relief.

“Mine!” Loki was crying and thrashing in Odin’s arms. “Home!”

“Ssh, Loki, you’re home. Here with Father, and Mother, and your brother Thor.” Odin tried to bounce the child as he had seen Frigga do to comfort him, but that only agitated Loki more.

“Mine!” Loki stopped struggling, and curled up weeping on Odin’s chest. “Home.”

Odin carried the weeping child out of the vault.

* * *

Odin was relieved to find that Frigga’s chambers were empty. He did not want to have to explain to his wife why he had delayed Loki’s nap, and why Loki was a weeping bundle of fabric, rather than the peaceful little boy she had entrusted to Odin in the healing rooms.

Loki had stopped sobbing, although the tears continued to flow. Odin pulled a cloth from the basket next to Loki’s daybed, and did his best to dry the tears as they fell.

Odin held Loki until the tears stopped, and it seemed the boy was asleep.

He carefully tucked the boy into his little bed.

Loki looked up at him, and in the quietest voice Odin had ever heard, said one word.

“Home.”

 


	5. Things Are Better. Maybe.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This chapter picks up immediately at the end of the last chapter, same day, still the afternoon. 
> 
> Since the focus of the story is shifting to other characters' point of view, basing the chapter titles on Handel's "Messiah" isn't working as well as I want it to, so they're named with just regular titles now. It was fun while it lasted!

* * *

Odin woke with a start, momentarily confused as to why he had been sleeping in a chair in his wife’s sitting room. He looked up as Frigga entered, calmer than he had last seen her, even with her slightly disheveled hair.

“ _Your son_ ,” she intoned. He knew this was not going to go well. The children were usually “our sons” or “the boys”. When Frigga uttered the words “your son”, Odin knew he was in for a lecture.

“Your son is resting now, and is extremely fortunate that he did not suffer any actual injuries today.”

Odin nodded. “Yes, he is.”

“Odin, I know it is important to you that he be a strong warrior, but it is just as important that he be wise. Perhaps fewer stories of military might, and more stories of intellectual prowess, might be in order?”

“He needs to be strong and brave. A king must always be prepared to do battle.”

Frigga’s retort came instantly .“A wise king knows not to seek battle.”

Odin bowed his head. “True.”

“If he is to become worthy of Mjolnir, he must be as wise as he is brave. I fear we are emphasizing the brave at the expense of the wise, and perhaps promising him something that he will not be able to earn.” Frigga’s tone carried more worry than she had intended.

Odin’s jaw set. “The seers have assured us it will be so. It _must_ be so.”

“The seers are not the Norns. They do their best, but they are not always correct.”

Odin stiffened. “My son will wield Mjolnir.”

Frigga drew back. “ _Your_ son.”

Odin recognized that tone of voice, and knew he had said exactly the wrong thing. “Our son. Our Thor.”

“And what of our other son? What can we promise Loki?” Frigga’s voice remained cold.

“When the time comes, we will tell him of his heritage. He will help us create a permanent peace when he ascends the throne of Jotunheim.”

“And the Casket?”

Odin winced internally, and hoped his voice sounded steady. “If my plan goes as expected, he will have the means to work its powers, and use it for peaceful purposes.”

“And if your plan does not go as expected?”

Odin felt tired. The weight of the Nine Realms was much to carry, and some days it was definitely a heavier burden than others. He conjured, then banished, the image of Loki, tiny blue hands on the Casket, speaking with it.

“The seers have not yet spoken of his future, but I know my plans. All shall be well.” Odin kissed Frigga, brushing her hair back into place. “Our sons are both fine, strong boys, and will grow into men who will make us proud.”

Frigga sighed. “That is my wish, Odin.”

“It is one we shall be granted, Frigga.”

Holding his wife in his arms, Odin the man felt the nag of Odin the king. As lovely as this moment was, he knew it was time to resume his duties as Allfather.

“I must go be king for a few hours, my love. But tonight, Anna can watch the boys, and I can simply be your husband.”

“Thank you, Odin.”

“I love you, Frigga. My wife.”

“I love you, Odin. Husband.”

* * *

The endless meetings seemed more endless than usual. Odin put on his polite listening face, nodding occasionally, but his mind was far from the throne room. He knew the scribes would take verbatim notes of all that the ambassadors had said, and he would review those notes tomorrow.

Loki’s seidhr had turned from green to blue when it came into contact with the Casket. Loki had resumed his birth form when he touched the Casket, and the Casket had recognized Loki as a prince of Jotunheim, responding to the boy’s speech.

What had Loki said to the Casket?

_What use is the Allspeak if we cannot understand our children?_

What had the Casket said to Loki? Loki had managed a few words—mama, papa, t’or (he hadn’t managed the “th” sound yet)—but that had been the extent of his vocabulary, and he had begun speaking only recently.

Odin recalled Loki’s low growl of “Mine!”, and his plaintive cry of “Home!”

Where did those words come from? And how did a baby make a sound like that growl?

“Your Majesty, that was the last delegation for the day.” The herald stared at Odin.

Odin realized the man had probably repeated himself more than a few times.

“Yes, thank you. We are adjourned for the day.”

Odin’s councillors stood as the King arose from Hjildskaf and left the throne room.

* * *

Having relieved his guards and his attendants of their duties, Odin walked quickly to his chambers. He needed some time alone to clear his head. He had promised Frigga that they would have this evening together, just the two of them, and he did not want his promise broken by an absent mind in a present body.

He grumbled a bit as he tugged at the buckles on his breastplate, then shook his head. _You are not a small child. You know how to do this._ A quick wave of his hands, and he was free of the armor and his ceremonial robes. He relished the lightness of being in just his shift, without all the trappings of his position.

Odin filled the wash basin with warm water, and splashed his face in an attempt to bring his attention back to the present. As he reached for his towel, he caught his reflection in the mirror. The drops of water looked like bits of melting ice clinging to his beard and his hair.

_I need to focus on Frigga tonight. The boy will have to wait until tomorrow._

Patting himself with a few splashes of his favorite scent, he thought on Frigga, his beautiful wife and wise queen. He had been smitten with her at first glance, even before she had looked his way. He knew then that they would be companions for life, and beyond. No one understood him better, and no one could better explain himself to him. She was loving and kind, and also fierce and unbending when needed. Although their lives had turned out rather differently from the plans they had made together in the first rush of love, he knew in both his heart and his mind that they had made the right choice to join their lives for the good of Asgard and of the Nine Realms.

Odin slipped into his dressing gown, and took a final look in the mirror. Hardly the bridegroom who had been almost too unnerved to cross the threshold of the bedchamber on their wedding night—at the time, some part of him still did not believe that such a woman could love him, despite their courtship and official marriage—he nonetheless felt a frisson of wonder that she had accepted his offer of love so long ago, and had loved him so well in return, all these years.

Knowing himself to be the most fortunate man in all the realms, he slipped into the passageway that connected his chambers to Frigga’s.

* * *

“Sweet dreams to you, Prince Thor! And to you, little Loki!” Anna kissed each of the boys on the forehead as she wished them goodnight.

Thor bristled. “He may be little, but Loki is still a prince!”

“You are correct, Prince Thor. My apologies.” Anna leaned over and kissed Loki on the forehead. “Sweet dreams, little prince!”

Thor relaxed, and Loki giggled.

“And you both go straight to sleep now! No tricks!”

Thor and Loki both nodded.

“Oh, no, of course not!” Thor tried to look innocent as Loki giggled again.

Anna raised an eyebrow that reminded Thor a bit too much of Frigga. “Your mother and father have important business tonight. I do not want to have to interrupt them to tell them you are misbehaving.”

Loki shook his head, and both boys quickly pulled up the covers and put their heads on their pillows.

Anna blew out all of the candles except the nightlight. Walking silently, she closed the door behind her.

* * *

Despite Thor’s plans to stay up late playing with his little brother, both boys fell asleep quickly. Loki had crawled into Thor’s bed and cuddled up to Thor as soon as Anna had left the room, and Thor had put his arm around Loki to keep him close.

Thor woke to find Loki thrashing and crying. “Home! I go home!” Loki’s entire body was shaking, and Thor had never heard such a sad sound come from anyone.

“Loki, wake up! It’s just a dream, Loki!” Thor gently shook Loki to rouse him from his nightmare. Despite Thor’s efforts, Loki did not wake, and continued crying.

“Go home! Loki go home! Too hot!” Thor considered going to wake Anna to deal with Loki, but he know that leaving Loki alone would be unwise. Thor remembered what his unwise decisions had led to earlier in the day, and steeled himself to do the right thing, as Mother and Father always told him to do.

He shook Loki harder, calling to him. “Loki, you are home! It’s me, your brother, Thor! You are home, Loki, and you are safe.”

Loki’s eyes popped open as if by force. Unfocused, and glowing a bit in the dim light, they looked more like crystals than living matter.

“Thor! I go home!” Loki flung himself into the older boy’s arms, crying quietly.

Thor held his brother and let him cry. “It’s okay, Loki. You are home. Here, with me, and Mother, and Father, and everyone who loves you. You are safe here in your home. I will always make sure of that.”

Loki’s tears slowed, and stopped. Curling into his brother’s arms, Loki rested his head on Thor’s chest.

“Home. Loki go home.” He muttered once, then fell back to sleep.

Thor stayed awake for a while, tensed in case he needed to wake Loki from another nightmare. At last convinced that Loki was indeed well asleep, Thor permitted himself to relax and join his brother in slumber.

 


	6. The Ice Blossoms

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The next morning. Things are better. Maybe. Well, no, they're not.

* * *

“Mama! Loki Thor go!” Loki was pointing out the window to the balcony, where a few early blossoms from the trees had fallen onto the stones. “Mama! Flowers! Loki give flowers Thor!”

Frigga smiled. “Yes, Loki, once we finish breakfast, you and Thor can go to the balcony to pick up the flowers.”

“Go balcony.” Loki smiled and tilted his head to one side, looking quite the adorable son. “Flowers balcony! Flowers Thor!”

Odin studied his half-empty plate. His delight that Loki’s verbal skills had picked up overnight was overshadowed by worry as to what had caused this sudden flow of words.

“Mama, Loki go balcony flowers!” Loki was pointing at the window.

“Mother, I can take Loki out there, if you would like.” Abashed after yesterday’s incident with the tree, Thor was determined to be more patient and wise. “If you do not mind.”

Frigga smiled. “You are kind to take care of your little brother, Thor. I think it would be nice for the two of you to play out there this morning before your lessons.”

“Thank you, Mother!” Thor realized that he could delay his lessons at least for a while by paying attention to his little brother, and made a mental note to do this more often. “Come on, Loki!”

Thor waved, and the younger boy awkwardly scrambled out of his chair. He toddled over and put his hand in Thor’s.

“Thor go balcony!” Hand in hand, they ran off to see the flowers.

“Odin, perhaps you should spend time with Loki more often! He is really talking now.” Frigga was delighted by Loki's sudden progress.

Odin shifted in his chair. “I cannot claim credit for that, my love. He was asleep the whole time I watched him.” _Not exactly an untruth; he was asleep as I watched him sleep. He just was not asleep the entire time._ “It must be your influence.”

“He’s not growing as fast as Thor did, physically, but he’s talking sooner, and more.” Frigga thought back to Thor’s early years, and his first attempts at speech. He was so excitable that, even when he had developed a fairly large vocabulary, he would lapse into babbling because the words would try to come out faster than he could speak them.

Odin nodded. “I don’t think he will match his brother in size, but Loki will be just as smart. They will be a good pair.”

“I am curious to see where Loki’s talents will lie. Thor is definitely meant to be a warrior, but I wonder about Loki.”

Odin winced inside. _It is as though she knows I am keeping something from her._ “He will be a scholar, and be a steadying influence on Thor.”

Wailing erupted from outside, and Thor’s voice carried into the room. “I’m sorry, Loki!”

Frigga and Odin raced from the table to see what was happening on the balcony.

* * *

“I didn’t do anything, I promise!” Thor was frightened by his little brother’s behavior, and equally frightened that his parents would blame him for it. “He dropped the flower, and it broke, and he started crying.”

Frigga patted Thor on the head. “It’s alright, Thor. It’s not your fault.” She scooped up Loki, who was crying and pointing at the shards on the balcony.

Odin bent down to see the flower. _Frozen. Petals covered in ice._

He stood up, trying to keep regret and fear out of his voice.

“Let’s talk about this later, Frigga.” Her eyes widened slightly, and she nodded. Loki had stopped crying, and rested against her shoulder with an air of resignation.

Odin picked up Thor and held him. Even though Thor insisted he was a big boy, he clearly was in need of reassurance from his father.

“You were very good to bring Loki out here to play, and telling us why he was upset was the exact right thing to do.” He stroked Thor’s blond hair, attempting to soothe himself as much as to soothe Thor.

“I didn’t do anything wrong?” Thor’s voice quavered.

“You did everything right, Thor. I am proud of you, my son.” Odin kissed his son on the top of his head. “You did everything right.”

* * *

Odin stared at the scribes’ careful notes from the prior day. He had been looking at them for at least half an hour without reading them, his mind filled with worry for his youngest son. And now he had just a few minutes to set aside the thoughts of the father, and put on the mind of the king.

How could he explain to Frigga what had happened yesterday in the vault? She would be furious, and rightfully so.

He heard his own voice reproving Thor when he had committed some small error—“ _What were you thinking, Thor?_ ”

He could hear Frigga saying the same to him. No matter how he tried to phrase it, the only response he knew he could expect from her would be, “What were you thinking, Odin?” And she would be completely justified in questioning his judgment and his actions.

Having failed dramatically in his duties as a father, Odin steeled himself to face the court and the returning ambassadors. Whatever had happened in the Vault yesterday, he was still King, and his duties there were clear.

* * *

In order to keep her sitting room quiet so Loki could rest, Frigga had dismissed her ladies. Thor was at his morning lessons with Master Nils, and she intended to enjoy the few hours of relative solitude and quiet available to her.

Setting her bobbin on the loom, Frigga gazed at Loki sleeping on his daybed. She had expected that, as a Frost Giant, Loki would grow quickly and catch up to Thor in height. However, Loki had remained small and delicate, unlike either a Frost Giant or an Aesir child.

“Little one, I hope we are doing right by you.” Frigga smoothed back the errant curl over Loki’s left eyebrow. “I hope we are giving you the home and family you need, until you can return to the land of your birth.”

Frigga’s breath caught in her throat. She felt great sadness for Farbauti, alone and defeated in his land of ice. The idea of her son, her sweet boy, becoming a grown man and leaving Asgard to return to that realm, to meet his birth family he knew nothing of, leaving the safety and warmth of Asgard, pulled at her heart.

She fought back tears, whispering, “What have we done, Odin?”

“The right thing, Frigga.” Odin’s voice was calm and firm.

Startled, Frigga looked up to see Odin standing just inside the doorway to her sitting room.

“You had a meeting with the Duergar representatives this morning. I did not expect to see you until lunch.”

“The meeting was brief.” Odin gave her a half-smile. “While they were not pleased with the offer presented, they knew the alternative would be to walk away with nothing, so they accepted our terms, and are on their way back to their king with the news.”

“Would it have been so awful to have been a bit more generous?” Frigga knew the terms Odin had offered, and he knew her opinion about those terms.

“It is enough. They do not appreciate generosity, and would have seen it as an unnecessary concession made by Asgard out of fear. Asgard does _nothing_ from fear.” Odin’s tone was as firm as Frigga’s expression.

“You overestimate the Aesir, and under-appreciate the subtleties of the Duergar culture.” Frigga’s voice was without expression, as was Odin’s face.

“The deal is done. The matter is closed.” Odin turned abruptly to watch Loki as he slept.

“Then we can discuss what happened this morning with Loki.” Frigga’s voice was flat.

_You walked right into that, Odin. Wilier than the Duergar, but not so clever as your own wife_.

“The flower petals were _shattered_ , Odin. How do you explain that?” Frigga’s voice was as cold as the flower shards on the balcony.

Odin steadied himself by drawing some energy from Gungnir, and hoped that Frigga had not noticed. “His magic seems to be manifesting with some traits from his original form.”

“Not just his magic, Odin.” Frigga conjured an ice cube and wrapped it in a handkerchief. Leaning over the daybed,she held it near Loki’s face. His skin began to turn blue, his Frost Giant markings becoming visible on his skin.

Frigga looked up at Odin, who stared wordlessly.

Frigga waved the ice away, and Loki’s skin resumed its pale Aesir hue, the lines of his heritage smoothing out quickly.

“I have tested him weekly since you brought him to Asgard. Today is the first day this has happened.” Frigga’s voice went flat. “Until now, he has been too small to play in the snow with Thor. But this winter, he will be big enough, and will want to go sledding with his brother.”

Odin nodded.

Frigga’s voice was smooth as silk. “Odin, we must tell Farbauti that his son lives. We must tell our people that we are fostering the next King of Jotunheim.”

Odin shook his head. “Absolutely not. It is too soon.”

Frigga rose, standing directly in front of Odin. “It is always ‘too soon’, Odin. We must not wait so long that it becomes too late.”

“You do not understand, Frigga. We must be sure of Farbauti’s cooperation. If he knows his heir still lives here in Asgard before the boy is old enough to rule, Farbauti will fight us in every way possible for the return of his son.”

“We should have told him, and our people, from the beginning, Odin. Our folk have no liking for the Jotuns, and the more the war recedes into memory,the more demonized the Frost Giants become. I cannot imagine that the reverse feelings are any different in their realm. Let us begin creating the new peace now, so that our sons’ friends, all of the children of the realm, will grow up to learn that Frost Giants are not simply evil, and they do not have to be our enemies forever. And the Jotuns’ children may learn the same of us.”

“It is too soon, Frigga. It does not suit my plan to make the truth of Loki’s birth known at this time.” Odin drew more energy from Gungnir, willing himself to remain in control of his feelings.

“Then how do we explain Loki’s ice magic? The change in his appearance when he goes outside this winter? And who knows what else we will have to explain as he endures the changes that adolescence will bring?”

Odin sighed internally, keeping his exterior still. “I will bind glamours to him, so no one will see these things.”

Frigga’s tone shifted from silk to iron. “Odin, we need to tell him. We need to tell everyone.”

Odin loved his wife, and respected his queen. Even when she was wrong, as she was about this. “Not now. Not yet. The glamours will hold, and we will tell everyone when he marks his First Passage.”

Frigga’s tone did not change. “Odin Borson, King of Asgard, I will hold you to that.”

Odin’s tone matched hers. “Frigga Jordsdottir, Queen of Asgard, I expect no less of you.”

 


	7. Meanwhile, Back  on Jotunheim

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which we stop in to check on Farbauti, and see how things are going on Jotunheim.

Farbauti was alone in the chapel. It was the one place he could be truly alone and undisturbed. Short of an invasion, there was no cause which would permit anyone to intrude on his time here. He came here daily to find quiet, if not peace.

He remembered entering it the day of Laufey’s death, searching in vain for their son. There was no trace of the child anywhere. Sirel recounted the story of Vonir’s naming, finishing just as the Asgardian army breached the gates of the Temple. Sirel had escorted the Queen and Prince, attempting to get them to the safety of the hidden room behind the chapel. Laufey had fallen in the passageway before the army came through, Sirel had been enchanted by Odin, and Vonir had been taken. Though the child’s body had not been found, the Jotuns had no hope that their prince had survived the brutal attack.

Farbauti had remained calm despite his anger at the defeat suffered by his army. Farbauti had remained quiet despite his rage at the Asgardian’s theft of the Casket of Winters. But there, in the Temple where his beloved wife had died, where his dearest child had been lost, Farbauti’s will broke, and he had wept. His grief at the loss of his wife and his son had cracked his heart and rent his soul, and he let himself weep for the loss of love and life. He had walked out of the chapel and back to his palace with a shattered heart and an empty soul.

He shook himself, and took a deep breath. That had been many years ago. The Asgardians had left them with little, but the Asgardians had also left them alone. Without the powers of the Casket of Ancient Winters to build and to heal, the Jotuns had to rely solely on their own abilities, and the limited resources of the realm. They were rebuilding as they could, but having lost so much in the war, his realm was suffering longer and reconstruction was painfully slow.

He gazed at the painting of Laufey, smiling peacefully from the wall. In honor of the lost prince, the painter had depicted her holding the newborn child. The panel simply read, “Queen Laufey and the Eldest Prince, Vonir”. He and Laufey had not been able to agree on a name before the birth. When telling the story of what happened in the Temple, Sirel had reported the child’s name as chosen by Laufey. That she had chosen to name the child “Hopes” in such a desperate time reminded Farbauti of what a perfect queen and wife she had been for him.

On the day they sent her to rest with her ancestors, Farbauti had never expected to feel joy again. He had lost his wife, his son, and his realm’s magic. All that he had worked to build in his life, all that he had striven to build for his people, was gone in one hour, and all the result of his rash desire to contest the Asgardians for rulership of Midgard.

In the years since that terrible day, Farbauti had worked to make amends to his people. He could not restore Laufey or Vonir to life, but he could make every effort to improve the lot of those he had misled. He knew it would take years to regain their trust, and was grateful for the councillors and subjects who had remained loyal and who did their part to carry out his plans for rebuilding.

He walked out with the gatherers to learn more about conditions that created the scarce vegetation, and to find ways to create those conditions to grow more food. He rode out with the hunters to learn more about the migration patterns of the herds, and to explore methods of domestication to increase the livestock. He reviewed each law with his councillors, taking it apart word by word, to see if it could be made more fair, or if it could be done away with entirely. He rose early each morning, and stayed late in his study each night, trying to find ways to restore his realm and care for his people.

Slowly, it had been working. Each year, there was more food and less hunger. Each year, more babies were born, and fewer children succumbed to illness and cold. Each year, more subjects greeted their King with true respect instead of perfunctory duty. Things were still difficult, and scarcity still haunted the realm, but each year, things were a bit better.

Except that each year he was still without a wife, a child, a queen, an heir.

Some things, time could never heal.  
  


 


	8. Fevers and Secrets

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Loki's Jotun nature reveals itself in unexpected ways. Frigga and Odin do their best to conceal it.

 

* * *

After the incident with the flowers, Frigga and Odin had held their breath every time Loki touched something, ready to instantly throw a glamour to disguise any unexpected effects. Objects of metal and wood were quite cold to the touch after Loki handled them, but no frost formed on them. The only real problem seemed to be anything that had a significant moisture content that was at or below Loki’s body temperature—the higher the moisture content, the more ice crystals formed on it.

Thus, their parents were constantly reminding the boys to eat with their utensils, rather than their fingers, and to use only their own goblets. Frigga accompanied Loki each time he wanted to go to the gardens, so she could block his ice magic from affecting the plants. Frigga instructed Anna to make sure Loki’s bathwater was always properly warmed. Loki fussed if the water was too hot, and “too hot” seemed to be not much higher than his body temperature, so Frigga often ran Loki’s bath herself.

Frigga wound endless seidhr around Loki, as did Odin. And each night, both of them were up late, reading through spell books that had sat undisturbed for centuries, trying to find incantations and enchantments to keep their secret, and Loki, safe a little while longer.

* * *

Thor had never been so frightened in his life. Not the first time Frigga had caught him sneaking to the kitchen to steal tarts. Not the first time his father had found him playing outside when he was supposed to be in his lessons. Not even the time he had fallen out of the tree and scared everyone else.

Loki was running a fever, and muttering to himself, and Thor hadn’t been able to wake him.

Thor had run to Anna’s chamber at the other end of the nursery, hoping she would somehow be awake. She had been sound asleep, and as frightened as he was at the idea of waking her, he was more afraid of something bad happening to Loki.

Thor had called to her from the doorway of her room. “Anna, please come! Something is wrong with Loki!”

She had wakened instantly, and jumped out of bed. “What is it, Prince Thor?”

“I don’t know, Anna. He’s talking, and he has a fever.”

Anna slipped into her shoes, and taking Thor’s hand, walked with him back to the small room where the princes slept.

Loki had crawled into Thor’s bed after yet another nightmare. Thor was accustomed to soothing his brother’s night terrors, and no longer bothered to tell Anna or his parents when it happened, so Anna was surprised to see Loki not in his own bed.

Anna leaned over the boy and felt his forehead. _Hotter than Muspellheim._

“He does have a fever, Prince Thor. You stay right here with him. I’m going to get your mother, and bring a healer to take care of Loki.”

Thor’s fear leapt up like a lion. _My brother is very sick if he needs a healer._

“I won’t be long now, Prince Thor. You stay here and take care of Loki, and your mother and the healer will both be here right away. As long as you are here with him, Loki will be fine.”

“I am his big brother. Of course I will take care of him.” Thor struck what he hoped was the pose of a confident warrior, even if he didn’t have the first idea about how to fight a fever.

“That’s very good, Prince Thor! I will be right back.” Anna left the room with a quick stride.

Thor sat down on the bed next to Loki. _All the tales speak of fighting dragons, and trolls, and all kinds of creatures. What kind of a monster is a fever, and how do I slay it?_

* * *

Mother appeared almost instantly, and Anna returned quickly with Eir. The women conferred quietly, and Thor sat next to Loki, trying to hear.

“Fever . . . talking to himself . . . was fine when he went to bed . . . .”

Frigga leaned over her son, and ran seidhr energy around him. Loki’s seidhr responded, its usual green threads rising to meet hers.

Eir pulled a small bundle from the basket she had brought. Summoning her own seidhr, she activated the spell and set it on Loki’s chest.

“It is a cooling poultice, Your Majesty. It will draw out the fever.” She smiled reassuringly at her queen.

Frigga’s face went pale. “Thor, we need some time to make Loki well. Please go with Anna. You can sleep on the divan in the main room.”

“But Mother, Anna said I should take care of Loki—“

“Thor, please. Go with Anna. You have taken very good care of Loki, and now Eir and I will do the rest so you can get your sleep.”

As frantic as Thor was with worrying about Loki, he recognized that tone in her voice. “Yes, Mother.”

Thor followed Anna out to the main room of the nursery, and Anna closed the door behind them.

Eir’s voice shook. “My Queen. His skin.”

“Yes, Eir. I know.”

The points on Loki’s skin where the poultice made direct contact had turned blue, the lines of Loki’s heritage rising from his skin as the blue tint spread across his body.

“Your Majesty, is Loki—?”

Frigga fixed the healer with the gaze of a mother lion. “You know the answer to your question, Eir.”

The healer nodded. “I will see about finding suitable medical texts for the prince’s future care.”

Frigga smiled calmly. “Thank you, Eir. Your king and queen appreciate your diligence, and your discretion.”

* * *

The next morning, Frigga recounted the night’s events to Odin, who had managed to sleep through it all.

“Odin, we must tell everyone. Now.”

“We agreed we would do it at his First Passage.”

“Odin, it is only a matter of time before someone who lacks Eir’s discretion finds out. It is much better to inform everyone as a matter of policy, than to have to defend it as a divulged secret.”

“No. We will do it at his First Passage, and not one day sooner.”

* * *

Loki’s fevers continued through the summer, several nights each week. The boys no longer made a pretense to Anna of falling asleep in their own beds, and Anna was content to let them comfort each other through Loki’s sickness.

Eir had left a basket of the poultices in Anna’s room. While the governess was not a healer, she could unwrap the bundle and put it next to Loki so it was ready when Frigga arrived to tend to her son.

Thor at first enjoyed the adventure of sleeping on the divan in the sitting room. After a few occurrences, however, the novelty had worn off, and he began to worry about his brother. He also missed sleeping in his own bed. He knew that Loki being sick was more important, so he didn’t complain to anyone, and told himself that brave warriors don’t mind sleeping on the divan when duty required it.

Tonight, though, he was too worried about Loki to go back to sleep. As usual, Anna had made a nest of pillows for Thor on the divan, and tucked him in before returning to her own chamber.

Thor wished he could do something to help Loki. He decided he would ask Master Nils at his lessons tomorrow what kind of a monster a fever was, and how he could slay it. He wanted his little brother to be well, so they could play together. And he wanted to sleep in his own room.

Anna hadn’t closed the door to the boys’ room all the way, and it had drifted open. Thor sat up, and realized he could see Frigga’s back as she sat next to Loki’s bed.

_Maybe she is thirsty. I will take some water to her._

Thor slipped off the divan, and tip-toed over to the sideboard. He picked the nicest goblet for his mother. Trying to be silent in his movements, he poured some water from the bottle into the goblet, and walked quietly to the door. He paused to gather his breath and his courage, and walked to his mother’s side.

Frigga was watching Loki, who was sleeping peacefully.

But the figure in the bed was not Loki. Whoever it was had blue skin, with strange markings on the face. The hair was jet-black, like Loki’s, but Thor knew his brother was not blue.

Thor gasped, and dropped the goblet. Water ran through the jagged shards, past his feet and across the floor.

Frigga grabbed Thor’s shoulders, and spun him around to face the door. “Thor! I thought you were asleep!”

Thor was frightened to the core. He didn’t know why there was a blue creature in Loki’s bed, but he had an idea at the edge of this thoughts, and it scared him and made him angry. “I woke up, and thought you might be thirsty, sitting with Loki. I wanted to bring you some water.” Thor was afraid of being in trouble for getting out of bed without permission, for spilling the water, for breaking the goblet, for seeing something he knew he should not have seen.

“Thor, that was kind of you.” Frigga patted his head. “That was very thoughtful.”

The boy relaxed. Maybe he wasn’t in trouble after all.

“Did you see Loki?” Frigga’s voice was brittle.

Thor’s mind raced. He didn’t know what to say.

_A worthy man always speaks the truth_.

“I saw a blue person in Loki’s bed.” Thor’s throat went dry as he waited for his mother to speak.

Frigga sighed. “It is part of the sickness, Thor. It’s why we have to use magic to make him well.”

Thor desperately wanted to believe his mother, but he felt—for the first time ever—that she was not telling him the whole truth. His confusion and sadness mixed with his worry about his little brother, leaving him in a state he had no idea how to manage.

“What kind of sickness is it that makes him blue?” Thor’s voice quavered. He had never heard of such a thing, and he knew it must be bad if it was so unusual.

“It is something he was born with.” Frigga chose her words carefully. She knew that Thor’s trust in her was being tested, and she did not want to lie to her son. “It takes magic to turn him back to how he usually is.”

“Will he always be sick?” Thor worried for his little brother, and wondered if he would ever again be able to sleep in his own bed. _Not a worthy thought._

“Eir and I are working on ways to make him better, so he will never be sick again. It’s complicated, though, and it will take some time for us to do.”

Thor shook his head. This was all much too _complicated_ , to use his mother’s word. Loki was so sick it made him blue, and not even his mother, the cleverest seidhr-worker in the Nine Realms, could fix it. That was more than he wanted to think about.

“I know this is very upsetting for you, Thor. I know how much you worry about your brother. We will find a way to make sure he doesn’t get sick any more, and you can sleep in your own bed again.” Frigga took Thor’s hand and walked him to the sitting room.

“You have been very good about sleeping out here, and your father and I appreciate how brave and patient you have been.” Frigga tucked Thor into the nest of pillows, and smoothed his hair back from his forehead.

“Mother, what if Loki never gets well?” Thor was more afraid of losing his brother than anything, but he remembered Father telling him that a brave warrior faces what scares him, and in so doing, conquers it.

“Loki will get better, my son. I promise.” Frigga’s eyes were bright, despite her exhaustion. “But I will need your help to make that happen.”

Thor nodded. “Of course, Mother! I would do anything to help Loki.” Thor’s heart beat faster, wondering what great quest he would have to undertake to help heal his brother.

“You must not tell anyone what you saw tonight, Thor.” Frigga looked at him earnestly. “This is a very rare kind of sickness, and we do not want to scare people. If anyone found out about it, it would cause many problems for Loki. For all of us.”

Thor nodded, solemnly. He had rather hoped that he would have to _do_ something, rather than _not do_ something. But it was for Loki, so he would of course do as his mother asked.

“Of course I will not say anything, Mother. It’s my job to protect my brother.”

Frigga smiled with relief, and kissed Thor on the forehead. “That’s my wise, brave son! I am quite proud of you, Thor.”

Thor felt his cheeks turns slightly warm. He knew his parents loved him, but hearing praise from them was always wonderful.

“For tonight, though, what I need you to do is sleep and get much rest, so tomorrow you can be quick about your lessons. If you finish early, you can help me with a special project.” Frigga winked at Thor. “It’s a very interesting one.”

“Of course, Mother! I will go right to sleep!” Thor curled up on his side, and set his head on the largest pillow.

“Sweet dreams, my darling son.” Frigga gave Thor another kiss on the cheek, and returned to sit at Loki’s bedside.

 


	9. Glamours and Memories

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Time has passed; Loki is now the equivalent of a human five-year-old, which makes Thor nine in human years. And things aren't getting any less complicated.

 

* * *

Thor was supposed to be studying geography. What he was actually doing was staring at the book, and wondering when he would see his brother, or his father.

Every day for a week now, Odin had summoned Loki to his study after the last council session ended. Only Loki. Never Thor, never both of them. Just Loki. Leaving Thor alone to finish his reading for the next day’s lessons, and leaving Thor feeling very alone indeed.

He closed the book, and headed to his mother’s suite.

* * *

Frigga looked up and smiled with joy to see her son. “Thor!” She opened her arms, an invitation to sit next to her on the divan.

Frigga set down her weaving, and wrapped one arm around Thor, pulling him close with a kiss on the forehead.

“How were lessons today, Thor?”

“We learned about Muspellheim, the Land of Fire!” Thor had enjoyed that part of the lesson.

“And what did you learn, my son?”

“That King Surt was the first to come from Ginnungagap, and that he intentionally steered Muspellheim into Niflheim to create the universe.” Thor remembered Master Nils describing the scene, while Thor looked at the illustrations. “And that there are many volcanos.”

“When you are grown, you can go to Muspellheim to visit King Surt, and to see the volcanos.”

Thor wriggled in delight at the prospect. “I should like that very much, I think!”

“But he is their king, so you would need to be very polite.”

“Of course, Mother! You must always be polite to the king, wherever you are.”

“You are learning your lessons well, and will be a good king, my son.”

“Mother, have I done something to anger Father?”

Frigga squeezed Thor close to her. “Of course not, Thor! What gives you this worry?”

“Every day this week, he has called Loki to his study for hours. But he has not called me there, or the two of us together.”

_How did Bestla manage with a house full of sons? Two is more than enough._

“Thor, remember when I told you that Eir and I were using magic to make Loki well?”

“Yes.” Thor tried not to think of the strange blue person who had been in Loki’s bed that long-ago night.

“We have found some very old spells. Some of them are ones I must do, and some are ones your father must do. Since he has to focus closely to do the magic, he meets with Loki alone.”

“Oh. I see.” Thor was relieved that he was not in trouble, and newly worried that his brother was so sick that Father had to do magic, too.

“We has done almost all of the magic necessary. In just a few more days, Loki should be completely well.”

Thor’s heart leapt for joy. _I will be able to sleep in my own room every night!_ It had been quite a while since Loki's last fever, but Thor was still sensitive about sleeping on the divan.

“That is wonderful news, Mother!” _That was not a worthy thought. I should be happy solely that my brother will be well again._

“And once that is done, your Father will start calling you to his study again to discuss your lessons.”

Thor winced, remembering the reading he had not done. “I should go finish my reading for tomorrow.”

Frigga gave Thor a deep hug. “I am very proud of you, Thor.”

Thor hugged his mother quickly, and took his leave.

* * *

Odin watched the golden seidhr-light swirl around Loki. His tiny form stretched out on the divan looked even smaller than usual. Odin wondered when the boy’s genes would give him away with a sudden increase in height.

The seidhr-light sank into Loki’s skin, causing him to glow faintly as his body absorbed the magic, before returning to his usual Aesir appearance.

Odin conjured a chip of ice, and held it next to Loki’s skin. For the second day in a row, his skin retained its ivory tone, without the slightest trace of blue and no sign of his family markings rising on his face.

Odin released the ice chip, and sat back in the chair. One more day, and not a day too soon. The first snowfall would arrive shortly, and he knew they could not reasonably continue to deny Loki’s wish to play outside with his brother.

* * *

Thor closed his folio, plotting how to fill the afternoon. He knew Loki was excused from lessons this week and would still be in Father’s study, so he had the hours until supper to himself. He should start on tomorrow’s reading, but he had one final afternoon that he would not have to discuss his lessons with Father, and it would be a shame to let the free time go unappreciated.

“These are the books for tomorrow’s lesson, Prince Thor.” Master Nils handed him two volumes. “I have placed a card inside each, indicating the pages you are to read. Since we have finished Muspellheim, we will move on to Jotunheim.”

“Thank you, Master Nils.” Thor picked up the books, pleased to note that they were not especially thick. “I will see you in the morning.”

The tutor bowed, and Thor headed to his room. He would put the books on his desk, and go play for a bit before reading. He was restless from sitting through what seemed an unnecessarily long discussion of lava formations, and was eager to run around. Maybe Fandral would be done with his lessons, and they could sneak away together.

* * *

Thor set the books on the desk in the sitting room, and made to leave quickly. The top book, however, was slightly off balance, and fell to the floor with a thud. Thor stared aghast—the book had fallen face-down onto the floor, and Thor suspected the pages had been damaged. He knew he would be in for quite a lecture from Master Nils about taking respectful care of his books.

Thor picked up the book, and turned it over to close it.

The book was open to an illustration with the caption, “Frost Giants of Various Families”. Several fur-clad beings with strange markings on their faces stared back from the page.

Beings with blue skin and black hair.

Just like the person he had seen in Loki’s bed.

_No. It couldn’t be._

All thoughts of sneaking into the orchard with Fandral left his mind.

He picked up the book and headed to his Mother’s suite.

* * *

“Thor! Are your lessons for the day already done?” Frigga smiled sweetly at the unexpected visit from her son.

The young prince was shaken, and trying to hide it. “Yes, Mother.”

Frigga picked up on his unusual energy. “Ladies, I would like some time with the Prince.”

The women picked up their work, and left with a bow.

Frigga patted the cushion next to her on the divan. “Sit with me, Thor.”

He climbed onto the divan, but did not move close.

“Did something happen today, Thor?” Frigga’s voice was warm with concern.

“We finished studying Muspellheim today, Mother.”

Frigga nodded. “Are you worried about the Fire Giants invading Asgard?”

“Not at all, Mother.” Thor was shaking, holding the book close to his chest.

“What is it, my son?”

“Master Nils says we are to study Jotunheim next.”

Frigga’s breath caught in her chest. She smiled, and let it out. “A very different place from Muspellheim.”

_Why didn’t we think about this?_

_There is too much to think about._

“Master Nils gave me some reading to do before tomorrow. Including this book.”

Frigga’s heart sank.

Thor opened the book to page with the illustrations, and held it up so his mother could see.

”This is what Loki looked like that night he had the fever.”

_Oh, Odin. We should have just told everyone._

Once again, Frigga found herself torn between a desire to protect her sons, and the need to be truthful with them. If Thor knew she would lie to him, he would never trust her again.

Frigga’s voice was quiet. “Yes, he did.”

“Does that mean my brother is a Frost Giant?” The pain in Thor’s voice pierced Frigga’s heart.

_We have handled everything completely wrong._

“Loki is your brother, Thor. How could he be a Frost Giant?” Frigga’s voice was calm, but she flinched inside. _I cannot lie to my son._

“I do not know, Mother. I just know that he looked like this.” Thor stared unhappily at the page. “And if he looks like a Frost Giant, he must be a Frost Giant.”

_Think fast, Frigga. You have one final chance to handle this well._

“Thor, you know that your grandmother—your Father’s mother—was a giantess? As was my own mother?” Frigga’s smile was soft.

“Yes, Mother. But they were not Frost Giants. They were good giants.”

Frigga sighed internally, regretting every story the Aesir had ever told about Frost Giants. “Not all Frost Giants are bad. Just as not all Aesir are good.” She was trying to lead the conversation in a direction that would alleviate Thor’s distress.

Thor’s impatience refused to follow her lead. “Mother, is Loki a Frost Giant?”

Frigga’s heart cracked. She could not lie to Thor, but he was too young to understand the truth.

“Well, Thor—“

The door to Frigga’s suite flung open, and Loki bounded through, giggling. Odin followed immediately behind him.

Frigga whispered to Thor, “Say nothing to your brother, or your Father. We’ll talk about it later.”

Thor, utterly miserable, nodded and quickly closed the book. Frigga took it from him and hid it behind a pillow on the divan.

“Mother!” Loki launched himself into Frigga’s arms, and nestled in her lap. He looked over at Thor, and laughed. “Brother, let’s go outside!”

Thor was as surprised as his parents to hear Loki’s suggestion. Loki had always made it quite clear that he preferred to stay indoors and read, rather than play outside in the dirt.

Thor laughed, trying to cover his confusion. “We are supposed to study, Loki!”

Neither parent could believe their ears. It was as though the boys had switched minds.

Loki pointed to the window. “But Thor, it’s _snowing_. You promised to take me sledding!”

Frigga glanced over at Odin, fear in her throat. Odin nodded. Frigga took a deep breath, and relaxed. “It has just begun snowing, Loki! There will not yet be enough snow for you two to go sledding today.”

Loki deflated. “But I want to go sledding!”

Odin spoke up. “If it snows enough tonight, you two will be able to play outdoors tomorrow.” He looked at Frigga. “But for tonight, you have studying to do.”

Both boys sighed conspicuously. “Yes, Father.”

Thor reached for Loki. “Come on, let’s race! Last one back to the room gives their dessert to the other!”

“You’re on!” Loki was out the door before his brother had even started to run.

Frigga and Odin watched their sons speed away, and turn the corner.

 _One day, they will turn the corner, not to go to their room, but to go to another Realm._ Frigga could see her sons, grown men, armored and ready for war.

Frigga shook her head, and came back to the present. She pulled the book from behind the cushion, and opened it to the illustration. Without a word, she handed the book to her husband.

Odin looked at the page, and back at Frigga. “Frost Giants?”

“Remember that night, early in Loki’s fevers, when Thor came into Loki’s room to bring me water? And I was not able to divert him quickly enough to prevent him from seeing Loki in his birth form?”

Odin nodded, remembering Frigga telling him about it. He thought she had handled it well, and that had been the end of it.

“Thor brought this to me just now, and asked me if Loki is a Frost Giant.”

Odin’s eye dimmed. “What did you say?”

“Before I could answer, you and Loki came into the room.”

Odin closed the book with a sigh. “I will send for him after supper.”

“Odin, we must tell the boys. And then our people. And then Farbauti.”

“No, Frigga, we must not. Not today.”

“Odin, we can no longer take the risk that someone will find out, and have to defend ourselves and our son from lies and false accusations.”

“It is no lie that he is a Frost Giant, Frigga. We have nothing to defend against.”

Frigga rose, as did her voice. “Except for lying to everyone all these years about the birth of our son, and his true parentage.”

“It was necessary! That makes it not a lie!” Odin’s grip on his anger was slipping quickly.

“It was not necessary, and it is a lie!” Frigga felt the contained rage of centuries edging closer to exploding. “We must tell everyone. Starting with the boys. Tonight.”

Odin drew energy from Gungnir, and recomposed himself. “No, Frigga. We are telling no one. Not tonight. Loki’s First Passage will be here soon, and that is soon enough.”

Frigga’s voice contained the frost of Jotunheim. “Then what are you going to tell Thor?”

“I will deal with him tonight.” Odin turned, and stalked back to his study.

* * *

Odin had been so pleased that the spells he and Frigga had woven together had worked to create a perfect glamour for Loki. A solid week of seidhr-casting, and now Loki’s touch turned nothing to ice, and very few things cold. And his skin did not react in the slightest to cold or ice.

He had hoped that completing this work meant the two of them could spend the evening together quietly, as husband and wife, rather than weaving spells and conjuring magic to protect their son.

And now he would have to conjure magic for their other son, to keep their secret safe just a while longer.

Odin felt tired. Sleep. All he could think of was sleep.

He laid down for a short rest before supper.

* * *

“My King, the Queen asked me to check on you, and ask if you would like to join her and the Princes for supper.”

Odin opened his eye, and looked around groggily.

“Um. Supper.”

“Yes, my King. The Queen and the Princes are at table, and are waiting.”

“Ah, yes. Well.” Odin sat up, stiff from sleeping on the divan. “Yes, I will join them in just a moment.”

“Very well, Your Majesty.” The man bowed, and left the room.

* * *

Loki was in high spirits, and the only one at the table who was. He was disappointed that not even Thor was feeling playful. But he was not disappointed that he was going to have two desserts, since he had outrun Thor on the race back to their room.

“Mmm, jam tarts!” Loki rubbed his hands together, trying to cackle with glee. He wanted to enjoy gloating over his brother, and also wanted to make Thor laugh. “And they are all mine!”

He glanced over at Thor, who was clearly distracted by his own thoughts, and hadn’t noticed Loki’s staged gloating.

“I said, they are all mine!” Loki tried to cackle again.

Thor looked up at Frigga. “Mother, may I be excused? I need to finish my reading for tomorrow.”

Frigga shot Odin a look that would have melted steel.

Odin, himself distracted, sat up in his chair. “What, Thor? No dessert?”

“I lost the race to Loki, so I have forfeited my dessert.” Thor’s statement was matter-of-fact.

Loki’s throat suddenly hurt. He could not bear to see his brother so sad. And Thor hadn’t even bothered to respond to Loki’s teasing. “It was a close race, brother! Here, you can have your tart.” Loki pushed the plate with the second tart on it towards Thor.

“Thank you, Loki. That is very nice of you.” Thor turned back to Frigga. “But truly, I am not hungry. I wish to be excused so I may go finish my reading.”

Odin knew exactly what was bothering his oldest son. “Thor, I have been so busy, we have not had time to discuss your studies this week. Come with me, and let’s review what Master Nils has been teaching you.”

The boy wilted inside. He really just wanted to be left alone, so he could sneak away and wait for his Mother in her sitting room to talk about the Frost Giants. “Yes, Father. Of course.” Thor rose, pushed his chair into place, and followed his father out the door.

* * *

“Thor, I am sorry I have been so busy this week.” Odin settled into his armchair, and Thor on the divan next to it. “But I am pleased to tell you that Loki is completely well now. He will not have any more fevers. And you will not have to sleep on the divan, ever again.” Odin’s eye shone kindness on his oldest son. “You have been very patient, and very brave, during all of this.”

_At least I will be able to sleep in my own room._

_With my brother, the Frost Giant._

“I am glad to hear that Loki is well, Father.” Thor wondered if he could tell his Father about the book. “We have all been so worried.”

“Nothing to worry about now, my son! Your brother is fine.” Odin shifted a bit in his chair. “So, tell me, what has Master Nils been teaching you this week?”

Thor decided against telling his Father about the Frost Giant picture. “I have learned everything there is to know about Muspellheim, Father.” Thor thought about the various kinds of lava flow, and decided it would be a good thing to tell his father.

“Everything?” Odin’s voice carried a tone of amusement.

Thor realized that sounded like bragging, which was unbecoming to a warrior. “Well, almost everything. There’s probably a few things I don’t remember.”

Thor noticed his father playing with a gold strand of seidhr. Their father often threaded seidhr while talking with his sons, so that was not remarkable. “We talked a lot about volcanos. And lava.”

Thor watched as the threads spun into a globe. The globe began turning, gently, slowly. Thor could not look away.

“What about lava?” His father’s voice seemed to come from far away.

“Lava is formed deep inside the volcano, and is hotter than is safe for anyone except the Fire Giants to go near.”

Thor stared at the orb, spinning slowly. His thoughts were slipping away.

“Lava is like really hot soup. Except it’s really thick.”

Thor could not look away from the orb, and found himself floating in it. It was warm, like soup. And soft, and thick.

* * *

Loki quickly closed the book he had been reading and tried to hide it as Odin entered the room, carrying Thor, who was fast asleep.

“Your brother was telling me about the volcanos on Muspellheim. Apparently, it’s not as exciting a topic as Master Nils wishes it to be.” Odin smiled gently at Loki, sharing a joke with his son.

Loki permitted himself a quiet laugh. “Thor cares more for tales of battle among men, not battles of nature.”

Odin winced internally. His youngest son was keenly perceptive, and did not always choose to temper his speech.

“He will learn, Loki.” Odin set Thor on the bed, and tucked him under the covers.

“Mother is going to be upset that he isn’t in his nightclothes.” Loki knew how his mother felt about them not changing for bed.

“I will deal with your Mother.” Odin tucked Loki into his own bed. “ _You_ had best get to sleep, before she finds out you are up past your bedtime.”

Loki nodded. “You aren’t going to tell her, are you?”

“Let’s just keep these secrets to ourselves, shall we?” Odin’s eye twinkled.

“Of course, Father!” Loki liked having secrets, and he didn’t have many with his father. “Of course! Just us two.”

“That’s my son!” Odin kissed Loki on the forehead, and patted the covers into place. “Sleep well, Loki.”

“Goodnight, Father.”

Loki watched patiently as Odin blew out all the candles except the nightlight, and left the room. The sound of Odin’s footsteps faded, and Loki heard the door to the passageway closed.

Loki slid out of bed. Reaching under it, he pulled out the plate with the jam tart he had saved for Thor. He set the plate on the table next to Thor’s bed, and crawled back under his own covers.

 


	10. Meanwhile, Back on Jotunheim, Again

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Life in Asgard has been complicated. Life in Jotunheim has been . . . complicated.

* * *

Laufey smiled from the painting, timeless.

Farbauti gazed at the portrait of Laufey holding Vonir. “My dearest. My love.” He felt odd speaking to the painting. Not because he was speaking to it at all—he had done that on every visit to the chapel since it was painted after her death, as a way of keeping a connection with her—but because of the words he was about to speak.

“My Laufey, my queen, my love.” His throat thickened, then eased. “We were to spend our lives together. Ruling Jotunheim, raising a family, being together, always.”

“None other could ever take your place in my heart. You were my first love, Laufey.”

“When you died, I thought my heart had died as well. I never expected to feel anything but alone and lonely, until we were reunited in death. I will always love you, Laufey. But you are no longer here with me. And Vonir is with you in the land of death.”

Laufey regarded him with sweet eyes.

* * *

 

Conditions in the realm were still plenty difficult, but no longer dire. Mid-winter was still a lean time, but no longer did his people go hungry, or perish from famine, during the dark of the year.

Unexpectedly, Jorku had requested a private meeting. He was one of Farbauti’s most reliable councillors, having first begun service under Farbauti’s father. Jorku had requested permission from his king to retire to private life, and spend his remaining years in the comfort of his family. Farbauti had reluctantly agreed, knowing that he would be unwise to refuse, and wanting to do what he could for such a loyal servant. He knew it would be impossible to replace such an experienced advisor.

Jorku had anticipated Farbauti’s concerns, and suggested that Farbauti nominate Lacaia, Jorku’s niece, to his place on the council. Educated, sophisticated, and clever, she would be a good addition to the inner circle, despite her lack of direct experience in government. Adopted by Jorku when her own parents had succumbed to plague, she had grown up listening to her uncle and her aunt Moreia discuss matters of state at the dinner table, and was as familiar with Jotunheim’s history and politics as anyone currently on the council.

Farbauti had agreed, not only because the woman herself was qualified, but because it would allow him continued, if limited, access to Jorku’s wisdom and strategy via Lacaia’s contact with her uncle.

Farbauti quickly grew to appreciate Lacaia’s presence on the council for her own value. Despite her youth, she had a quick mind and a thorough understanding of politics that gave her a deep and strategic perspective on managing the realm and its problems.

One day, during a presentation of arguments about handling an issue with the Duergar, Lacaia had stepped into position to speak just as a beam of light broke through the glass of the council room, falling sideways onto her, illuminating her face and hair. Farbauti had been so struck by the sudden beauty of this woman he had seen countless times, he had lost track of her words, and found himself at a loss when she concluded her speech.

Before he could recover himself, the sun shifted, the light faded, and Karel, one of the other advisors began droning on with his opinion.

Farbauti took notes, and watched Lacaia as much as he felt he could without being obvious.

After that, he began to notice the elegance of her birth lines on her cheeks, the brightness of her eyes, the strength and grace of her movements. Her keen intellect, quick wit, and genuine care for the realm and its people impressed Farbauti, and reminded him of Laufey. His beloved Laufey.

* * *

“I am honored that you have chosen to visit, my King.” Jorku smiled to see his liege. “Please forgive me if I do not rise. The cold has settled into my bones, and I find it difficult to move much.”

“Jorku, my dear companion! It is just the two of us, we have no need of formalities.” Farbauti kept his smile in place, concealing his worry for his friend’s health. He knew Jorku was not a young man, but he was not prepared for Jorku to be quite so old.

“I am honored by your visit, my king.” Jorku did seem truly pleased at Farbauti’s visit. “It is good to be remembered while one is still around to appreciate it!”

Farbauti laughed. “Indeed it is! I have missed you greatly each day, both in council and afterwards.”

“Lacaia keeps me informed of events. It sounds as though you have things well in hand, and my absence is not a problem.”

“You are missed, my friend. By all of us.”

“Even Karel?” Jorku’s eyes were bright with merriment.

“Oh, especially Karel!” Farbauti laughed again. “No one will debate with him. He states his views, which are politely acknowledged, and the discussion moves on. I believe he finds it all rather tedious now.”

Jorku laughed, and recomposed himself. “Truly, my King. What brings you to visit?” Lacaia had kept him informed of the council’s discussions, and he was not aware of any truly pressing issues. Nonetheless, when the messenger from the King had arrived, requesting a time to call upon him. Jorku fell into worry.

Farbauti stood, and began pacing. “It does my heart good to see you, Jorku.” Farbauti marked the length of the room, and back again. “And I require advice on a matter that I cannot confide to any other. So I seek your wise counsel, my friend.”

Jorku nodded. “I will do my best to speak truth and wisdom to you, Farbauti.”

“In the many years since the war with Asgard, much has changed.” Farbauti continued pacing. “The quality of life has improved for all Jotuns, and we have made progress that we could not have imagined after the loss of the Casket.”

Jorku nodded. “And the people have grown in their respect for their King.”

“I hope so, Jorku.” Farbauti paused, and looked out the window.

Jorku recognized this pattern, and waited for Farbauti to finish his thoughts.

The king spun, and words poured out of him. “The one thing I have not been able to change, Jorku, is the lack of an heir to my throne. The council has mentioned it repeatedly, and I am aware of the need to attend to this matter. But after losing Laufey, and Vonir, and having my people reduced to dire circumstances due to my own rash actions, I knew my first priority was to restore the realm.”

Jorku nodded. “And the realm is greatly recovered.”

“And now I find that my heart—to my great surprise—is ready to love again. I have found myself thinking quite frequently how good it would be to have a wise Queen to help me rule, and a gracious wife to raise a family.”

Jorku nodded, pleased to hear these words. “There are a number of eligible young women among the nobles. I am certain you would not lack for possibilities, and the people would be cheered to hear that the King is seeking a bride.”

Farbauti smiled, remembering the first time he went through the courting process. Standing alone in the Great Salon, and watching the endless stream of ladies enter the room, trying to figure out who might be a suitable queen and wife. It had taken several weeks of these planned socials for him to work out that Laufey was far and away the best choice for him, as a king and as a man.

“Ah, yes. Well, that won’t be necessary.”

“It is custom, my King. It is necessary.”

“I am a grown man. I have been married once before, and fathered a child. I have been King for centuries. I do not need an ongoing parade of possible brides to make a choice this time.”

“You have someone in mind, then.” Jorku’s face was calm. “Who is the lady?”

Farbauti allowed himself to pace to the window, and back to his friend’s side. “She is—she is truly amazing. Intelligent. Clever. Lively of speech, quick-witted, and charming.”

“And beautiful?” Jorku permitted himself to smile.

“So beautiful! As lovely as the glow of the sunset on the ice-clad spires of the castle!” Farbauti’s eyes grew soft. “Lovely, and gracious.”

“But you are worried for some reason?” Jorku grew serious again.

Farbauti sighed. “I fear I am too old for her to find me interesting. I am still vigorous, but in truth, I fear she may wish a man closer to her own age.”

“Who would not be flattered to be loved by her King? There is no higher honor.”

“She is—she is not a flatterer, and does not brook flatterers. I do not wish someone to accept me because they are flattered, or honored. I wish her to accept me because she wishes to be my queen and my wife.” Farbauti’s face was lined with worry. “And I fear she will not wish such.”

“Have you spoken to her at all?” Jorku already knew the answer, but he also knew the King’s thought process.

Farbauti was surprised by the question. “Not at all! Not even a hint. I have no wish to disquiet her.”

“Has she indicated any interest herself?” Jorku suppressed a smile.

Farbauti’s voice was quiet.“She is always polite, and well-spoken. We have not conversed much, aside from council business.”

Jorku smiled. “My King, I encourage you to speak to Lacaia. You may find yourself pleasantly surprised.”

Farbauti stared at his advisor. “How—how did you know?”

“Of the women on the council, Lacaia is one of the few who is unmarried. And the others who are not wed are much closer to you in age.”

Farbauti laughed. “My clever friend! Yes, your niece. She has captured my attention, and my heart. I can only hope I am able to win hers as well.”

“Speak to her, Farbauti. Tell her your heart, and give her time to listen to her own.”

“Thank you, Jorku. I appreciate your patience, and your wisdom, as always.”

“It is my pleasure to serve my King, and my friend.” Jorku chuckled. “And I can hardly wait to hear the reactions when the news is carried.”

* * *

Farbauti strode to the council room with an unaccustomed lightness in his step. He had slept quite well, and was looking forward to the council meeting today.

The members were assembled, and rose as one when the King entered. Farbauti took his place, and motioned them all to be seated.

Karel stood. “Your Majesty, the first item on today’s agenda—“

“My good Karel, please take your seat. I have revised the agenda.” Farbauti was almost grinning, watching the man sputter at being interrupted.

“My King, I must—“

“My good Karel, you must take your seat now. I have a new agenda.”

Several of the other councillors were absorbed in their notes, and a few coughed in an attempt to cover their amusement. Farbauti noticed Lacaia’s calm, and was pleased with his soon-to-be-Queen’s grace and composure.

“Many of you have encouraged me to wed again, and to ensure the line of succession. I have deferred on this, as I believed my first priority was to heal the land and restore the well-being of our people.”

A sea of heads nodded.

“We have labored long, and I believe that now, the time has come for me to take a wife, to give Jotunheim a new Queen, and to secure the lineage of my family.”

Several of the councillors shifted in their chairs.

“After much consideration, I have made my choice. I have spoken to the lady, and she has accepted my proposal.” Farbauti stole a glance at Lacaia. Still calm and perfectly poised, she gave no indication that she knew what his next words would be.

“The Lady Lacaia has consented to become my wife, and my Queen.”

The council members began speaking all at once, some delighted, some shocked, all surprised.

“The wedding is set for Friday. Take your ease today, councillors. I have a wedding to prepare for, and plans to make. We are adjourned, and will reconvene on the morrow.”

Farbauti rose, and held his hand out to Lacaia. With quiet grace, she rose from her chair and joined Farbauti at the head of the council table. In formal pose, they walked out of the meeting room. They had made all the plans they needed to make, so he hadn’t really needed to cancel the meeting; he simply was not inclined to spend the day listening to political matters when his heart was filled with so much joy—joy he wanted to share with the woman who had brought full light back to his life.

* * *

“I need heirs, Laufey. I will not be in my prime forever. Now is the time. I must marry for the sake of Jotunheim.”

His councillors had reluctantly raised the issue a some years ago, and Farbauti had quickly dismissed it. He knew he had an unfulfilled duty to his people, but he could not bear to even think of taking another wife, of starting another family. However, now that peace had held for so many years, and prosperity and joy were returning to his people, he could grant himself those same blessings.

"And I must marry for my own sake. A good King is made great by a wise Queen. And since I have lost you, I must turn to another in hopes of being a better King, and a better man.”

“You are still in my heart, and I will always hold you there, with all tenderness. I hope you understand, my Laufey. My new love resides in my heart next to you, my first love.”

Laufey regarded him with sweet eyes.

Laufey smiled from the painting, timeless.

 

 


	11. Loki's First Passage

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Loki's First Passage is near, and Frigga reminds Odin of his oath to tell Loki the truth of his birth. Odin does not wish to be reminded of that oath.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The First Passage is something I made up for this story. The idea is Asgardians mark certain age transitions with specific rites of passage. The First Passage occurs when a person is emotionally and socially developed enough to take a place in general society, beyond the bounds of family life. So Loki is eight, and Thor is now twelve, in human years.

* * *

“And then I will be grown up, just like Thor!” Loki’s eyes were filled with excitement. “I am so tired of being a _child_.”

Frigga sighed internally. While she could not deny that Loki was, indeed, growing, the knowledge that he would eventually leave his home in Asgard to take the throne of Jotunheim made it difficult for her to breathe. While the Queen knew that this was the Prince’s destiny, the mother’s heart ached at the thought of separating from her beloved son.

“Are you pleased with the plans, Loki?” Frigga contemplated the drawings from the court tailor. Mari had designed an outfit of green and gold for Loki, suitably formal for the occasion, with just a bit of flash as befits a very young prince making his first formal court appearance.

“They are perfect, Mother! Thank you for arranging everything!” Loki hugged his mother around her waist, glancing up at her with the brightest of smiles.

Reflexively, Frigga smoothed the one errant curl back from Loki’s forehead. _We will have to enchant it to hold in place for the ceremony_.

“You are most welcome, Loki! I am glad you are pleased.” Loki had been in good mood for quite a while now. His last spell of fever had been more than year ago, and other than occasional fits of sadness over some disappointment, he had not sunk into a low state for almost as long.

“You have had a busy day, Loki. Perhaps you would like to go play the rest of the afternoon? I already told Master Nils not to expect you after lunch.”

“Oh, Mother! Yes, thank you!” Loki stood on tiptoes to give his mother a kiss, and Frigga leaned down to accept it.

“Enjoy your afternoon, Loki!”

“I shall, Mother!” Loki spun and made for the door.

Frigga watched as her youngest son moved quickly and gracefully out of her sitting room.

_How can we let him go to a land he does not know, to a people who do not know him?_

* * *

“Odin, the ceremony is less than a week away. We must tell Loki tonight so he has time to adjust to the news before we announce it to our people.”

Her husband continued staring at his goblet, as he had most of the meal. Frigga recognized it as the aversion tactic it had always been. While her husband was clever in many ways, he relied on a few predictable—and transparent—behaviors in difficult personal situations.

Odin hedged. “We should wait, Frigga. Why spoil his happiness?”

“Odin Borson, you swore to me that we would tell him, and our people, at his First Passage. I swore to you that I would hold you to it.” Frigga’s voice was iron.

Odin sighed. “But Frigga, he is happy. Why spoil it with telling him that I stole him all those years ago? Why frighten him with the idea that he will have to go to Jotunheim? All he knows is that the Frost Giants eat Aesir children. He will think we do not love him.”

“And if we had told Farbauti that his son lived when you brought Loki here, and made peace with Jotunheim to ensure Loki’s ascension to its throne, this would not be an issue now. But we didn’t, and so we must tell him now. Loki. Farbauti. Everyone.”

“We need to do more for our people first. We need to assert the reality that the Frost Giants are not just demons, that despite their appearance, they have families, and friends, and that they love, and hope, and fear, just as we do. Those ideas can take root, and our people will become at peace with the idea of the Frost Giants as equal beings. Once that happens, we can tell everyone at Loki’s Second Passage.”

“No. We are telling Loki tonight, and our people next week.”

“Frigga, please. Understand my reasons.”

Frigga shook her head. “I do not understand any excuse for breaking an oath.”

Odin winced as if he’d been struck. “I did not fully appreciate what I was promising when I spoke those words.”

“Just last week, you held Thor to an agreement he made with Fandral, even though he had not been aware of the full impact of his promise. How is this different?”

“That was a childish misunderstanding over possession of a toy. This is the fate of realms, and the fate of our son. It is not the same at all.”

“So you will hold Thor to a standard you will not hold yourself to?”

Odin bowed his head.

“I cannot bear to hurt him, Frigga. It will break his heart.”

Frigga sat in silence, her anger rolling over Odin in waves.

Odin looked up. “I am sorry, Frigga. Yes, you were right. We should have told everyone when I brought Loki to Asgard.”

Frigga’s voice was as cold as Jotunheim. “But we did not, at your insistence. And you swore we would tell everyone now.”

Odin nodded. “You are right. Call Loki to us.”

* * *

Loki entered the room where his parents had been dining. He couldn’t think of any reason he would be in trouble, and wondered what had caused them to send for him.

Frigga sat quietly on the divan, and Odin in a chair next to it, at a right angle to his wife.

“Loki, son. Come here.” Even though he was in a regular chair and not a throne, and wasn’t holding Gungnir, Odin looked very much the King to Loki, and not like Father.

The boy walked quietly forward.

“You will have your First Passage next week, Loki.” Odin’s voice was neutral, and Loki could not read his energy, or Frigga’s.

Loki nodded. “Yes, Father.”

“You will take your place in the court as a Prince of Asgard, and as my son.”

Frigga raised an eyebrow ever-so-slightly.

“Our son. The son of the King and Queen of Asgard.”

“Yes, Father.” They had discussed this many times, causing Loki to wonder why his father felt the need to make such obvious statements.

“There is something we need to tell you, Loki.” Odin smiled kindly at his son, and glanced over at Frigga, who had remained still and silent.

“Yes, Father?” Loki still could get no energy reading on either of his parents, and began to worry that something had happened that would delay his First Passage.

“When you were born, we knew you were . . . special.”

Loki’s eyes widened. “Special?”

“You started sending out threads of seidhr from the very first moments your mother and I saw you.”

Frigga stared at Odin.

Odin avoided his wife’s gaze. “And you know that your magic has blossomed quite early.”

“Yes, Father. I know I have much to learn about how to manage it.” Loki hadn’t had a seidhr accident in months. Surely they wouldn’t delay his first passage over something that had happened so long ago?

“I have consulted the Seers.”

Frigga glared at Odin.

Odin continued to look at the boy in front of him, trying to avoid Frigga’s energies. “They have told me that, while your brother is meant to be a warrior, you are meant to be a wise scholar and magician.”

Frigga’s icy look would have dropped a lesser man to the ground.

“You have great magic, my son, and this gives you great power. With great power—“

Loki finished the sentence, “—comes great responsibility. Yes, Father.”

“Your mother and I will be more attentive to your magical training, Loki, so that when you are older, you can study at the Temple as well.”

“Thank you, Father. I will do my best to make you and Mother proud.” Loki’s heart was racing. While he had never exactly envied Thor’s destiny as a great warrior, every time he had heard it being discussed, he wondered what would become of him. Now he knew, and he was filled with excitement.

Odin leaned forward, and wrapped Loki in a hug, surrounding him with golden seidhr-light. He held the boy longer than he meant to, and released him reluctantly.

“You have had a busy day, Loki, and the next few days will be even busier. Run along to bed now.”

“Yes, Father. Thank you, and goodnight.”

Loki turned to hug his mother. Frigga held her son close, wrapping him in lavender seidhr-light. “Goodnight, Loki.”

“Goodnight, Mother. I love you!”

Loki turned, and left the room with his usual grace, elation adding to the lightness of his steps.

The guard closed the door behind him, leaving Frigga and Odin alone again.

“Odin Borson. How. Could. You?”

“Frigga, how could I not? He is too young to know.”

“He is old enough to take his place in court. He is not too young.”

“He is a _child_ , Frigga. He will have plenty of time in the years to come to learn politics, and to adjust to his role as the future King of Jotunhiem. We need to let him become the person he is first, before we make him become a prince.”

Frigga stood. “An oath is an oath, Odin Borson.”

She strode out of the room in Loki’s footsteps.

Odin sat by himself as the sun faded and the room grew dark, and stayed there through the moonless night.

* * *

Thor wanted to be happy for his brother, but felt more than a bit of envy. Thor wanted more than anything to be a brave warrior, but had not been able to start his fight training as early as Loki would start his magic training. At Loki’s age, he had done drills with his wooden sword to learn how to handle the weight and shape, but Master Theodric had been quite firm that Thor was not yet been ready to actually practice hitting other people at that stage. It was only in recent years that he had moved from sparring with wooden weapons to working with steel weapons. Even then, Master Theodric still insisted on everything being done at half-speed while the young soldiers developed their skills. Every day, he reminded his students that, “Being fast is not as important as being accurate. Battle fever will give you speed, but you must bring accuracy to the field with you.”

“That’s very exciting, Loki!” Thor hoped he sounded as pleased for Loki as he felt he ought to be.

“You will be a great warrior, and I will be a powerful magician! We will be unstoppable!” Loki stood on his tiptoes, waving his hands wildly.

“And when I am King, everyone will bow before me!” Thor raised his arm triumphantly, imagining all the Aesir bowing at once.

Loki’s smile faded instantly. “When you are King, Thor?”

Thor realized what he had said, and his heart hurt. “When _we_ are Kings, together, Loki! Everyone will bow before us!” Thor raised his arm again, hoping his brother would follow suit.

“But if you are the only King, Thor, then I would have to bow to you.”

“But it won’t just be me, Loki! Father said we are both born to be Kings, so we will be Kings together!” Thor lowered his arm, intending to put it around his brother. To his surprise, Loki pulled away.

“You’re right, Thor. Only a warrior can be King. Magic users are not brave enough to deserve to be called ‘King’.” Loki turned away, remembering how the Einherjar always spoke of the superiority of physical might over magical skills.

“We _will_ be Kings together, Loki!” Thor was desperate to see his brother’s good spirits return. “The best Kings the Nine Realms have ever seen! The Brothers Odinson, Kings together, Kings forever!”

Thor raised his arm high again, smiling with all his warmth at his brother.

Loki shrugged, a sad smile fading to a blank expression. Turning away, he pulled a book from his desk, and moved across the room to sit in the chair furthest from where Thor was standing.

 


	12. Odin's Lesson

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The next day, Odin drops in on his sons' lessons. Today's topic: weapons and magic.

 

* * *

“Your Majesty.” Nils bowed as the king entered the classroom. “We are honored by your presence.”

“Good afternoon, Master Nils.” Odin truly liked his sons’ tutor, and knew that he had entrusted their education to a dedicated and knowledgeable teacher. “I do not wish to interrupt. Please, continue.”

Master Nils adjusted his glasses, and looked at his notes. “And thus was the mighty Gungnir created, and given to the King of Asgard. Each King wields it in turn, and it will work its magic only for the rightful king of Asgard.”

Thor wriggled excitedly in his chair. “When I am king, I will use Gungnir to make everyone brave and fierce, so that Asgard will always win at war!”

Odin suppressed a smile. He hadn’t known what today’s lessons would be, and was amused at the discussion he had stumbled into.

Loki spoke thoughtfully. “If you are to be a brave warrior and fight with Mjolnir, how are you to carry Gungnir as well?”

“I have two hands, don’t I?” Thor’s impatience was plain in his voice.

“Yes, but I don’t see how you could carry both and fight.” Loki’s sincerity irritated Thor, who was still feeling guilty about hurting Loki’s feelings the night before.

“I will be big enough and strong enough to do it!” Thor insisted.

Loki’s tone was matter-of-fact. “Father is big and strong, but he carries only Gungnir into battle.”

Thor’s irritation was increasing by the moment. “That’s because Father is saving Mjolnir for me to use when I am grown. But he could do it if he chose to! Right, Father?” Thor turned to his father for validation of his argument.

“It is not a question of strength, Thor. They are different weapons, and each has its own way it must be worked with.”

“But you _could_ , Father! Couldn’t you?”

“I could certainly hold both of them, Thor. But even I need both hands to wield either of them.”

Thor leaned back in his seat, disappointed. He had hoped to show up Loki to their tutor, and in front of Father.

“And if you had both of them, Thor, what would I use?” Loki looked at his brother, trying to hide his worry. “It does not seem fair that you would have two weapons, and I would have none.”

“You have your magic, Loki! That is all you need!” Thor realized that he had made himself look foolish and selfish to Father, in front of their tutor.

“But even Father, with all his magic, knows how to wield a sword, and an axe. Magic is powerful, but sometimes, you need a blade. Right, Father?”

Odin watched Nils out of the corner of his eye. Clearly, the tutor had not expected the lesson to take such a turn.

“A good weapon has its own kind of magic. And if you know how to use magic, a good weapon, even a plain weapon, becomes a great weapon.” Odin smiled at his sons. “And if you have a magical weapon, you have the best possible weapon you could hope to fight with.”

Loki tried not to feel smug at this statement. He knew that, no matter how big or strong Thor would become, he would never equal Loki in magic. And since Loki knew Thor would always be bigger and stronger, Loki’s magic was a way to keep things even between them.

Thor was furious at himself for speaking foolishly, and angry at Loki because it seemed that somehow Loki had won the argument. “Well, when _I_ wield Mjolnir, my fierceness will inspire our soldiers so that we will always win at war!”

‘Would it not be better to act in a wise manner, so that there isn’t a war?” Loki gazed at his brother without blinking.

“I wouldn’t start a war! But if someone attacked Asgard, they would be very sorry!” Thor knew he should stop talking, but he so desperately wanted to end the discussion with a statement that would win Father’s approval, he couldn’t keep himself from speaking.

Odin rose. “Master Nils, I apologize for interrupting. I fear I have taken your lesson far from its planned course.”

The tutor’s voice was calm. “That may be, Your Majesty, but I believe the direction it has taken has been useful, nonetheless.”

“Come, boys. Let’s go to the Vault, and discuss more of weapons and magic. If Master Nils does not mind ending early today.” Odin knew that the tutor would not object to his King removing the boys from the lesson, but he also knew the importance of setting an example for his sons of interacting courteously with the staff.

“Your Majesty, I am happy to yield this discussion to your unparalleled expertise.” Master Nils bowed.

“Thank you, Nils. They will return tomorrow, at the usual time.” Odin gestured to his sons. “Well, what are you waiting for?”

The boys jumped up and took Odin’s hands. Filled with excitement at this change in their usual day, they practically pulled him out the door and towards the Vault.

* * *

Odin’s voice carried the lilt of a skald. “Among its other powers, Mjolnir gives the person who carries it the ability to fly.”

The three of them stood in front of the great hammer.

Thor’s eyes shone with excitement. “I will be able to fly, Loki!”

Odin looked down at his son. “Remember, Thor, if you wish to wield Mjolnir, you must be worthy of doing so. That is something you must earn; I cannot give it to you. The hammer itself will decide who carries it.”

Thor deflated. “Yes, Father. Of course, Father.” Thor wondered how he could apologize to Loki for hurting his feelings. _Worthy warriors do not say unkind things to their little brothers._

Loki had heard all of this before. Every time Father brought them to the Vault, Thor wanted nothing more than to gaze at Mjolnir. _That’s all well and good for him. But there is nothing here for me._

“Loki, if you like, you can walk about and look at the other things. But remember, do not touch any of them!” Odin knew his younger son was not interested in hearing the story of Mjolnir, yet again. And Odin knew that Loki would behave when left to his own devices, unlike his increasingly unruly older brother.

“Thank you, Father. I will walk around once, and return.”

Loki headed off with no particular destination in mind. Father brought them down here now and then to see the various weapons and magical items which Asgard had created, or had won in battles from those who had tried to invade. He didn’t know all the stories, and it amused him to make up stories of his own about where the items had come from, and for what purpose they had been created. He would never tell these stories to anyone, though. They were just for his amusement.

The Infinity Gauntlet, for example. The official story was that its wearer could control the powers of the Infinity Stones and be an undefeatable magician. Loki found it much more interesting to think of it as an artifact which would allow the wearer to create new worlds. Thinking about what kind of world he would create if he had such power was greatly entertaining.

Loki saw the Casket of Winters in his peripheral vision. He remembered Father telling them about taking it from Farbauti, the fierce King of the Jotuns, at the end of the war, and then coming home to find that Loki had been born. “Two valuable treasures in one night,” Father had declared. Loki was always pleased to think that Father felt he as was important as the Casket.

Loki walked towards the Casket, musing on the stories Father had shared about it. How it was the very heart of the Jotuns’ power, and how they were helpless without it. He felt proud that Asgard’s magic was stronger, and able to conquer the Jotuns’ magic.

As he approached, he noticed the lights in the Casket dancing. Loki had always assumed it was the power trapped inside, trying to escape, and unable to do so because of the bindings Father had placed on it. He moved closer to study the shapes made by the lights.

Standing directly in front of the Casket, Loki could hear soft voices. The voices spoke a language he didn’t recognize, but he assumed was the language of the Frost Giants.

Suddenly, the voices grew louder, as though the speakers were standing in front of him. Loud enough for him to hear, and with the Allspeak, to understand, their words.

The lights shifted and formed shapes. He saw a small group of Frost Giants in what he took to be the Jotun temple. A crowned woman was holding a baby, and a man in armor stood next to her. A few people in simple clothing, and some ladies in fancy dresses and furs, stood with them. A woman and a man dressed in ceremonial robes stood next to the crowned woman.

The woman in the ceremonial robe addressed the woman holding the baby. “This is the child of our King and Queen?”

She replied. “He is the child of your King and Queen.”

The man in the robes cut in.“The King is not here.”

The man in armor stepped forward. “Your King is defending his people. I am here in his stead. This is the child of your King and Queen.”

The other man seemed displeased, but spoke again. “And he is acknowledged as the first-born child, the Crown Prince, and Heir to the Throne of Jotunheim?”

_The woman in the crown must be the Queen,_ Loki realized _._

The crowned woman and the man in armor both repeated the answer. “He is the first-born child, the Crown Prince, and Heir to the Throne of Jotunheim.”

“What is the child’s name?” The man in the robes certainly had a lot of questions. Loki decided he must be some kind of priest.

The Queen spoke again. “His name is ‘Vonir’.”

“By the bones of Ymir, I consecrate you, Vonir, to the land of Jotunheim.” The priest marked the baby’s forehead with something dark and dusty.

“By the blood of Ymir, I consecrate you, Vonir, to the crown of Jotunheim.” The priestess marked the baby’s forehead with a dark liquid.

“All hail Vonir, the son of our King and Queen, our Crown Prince, our Heir to the Throne of Jotunheim!”

The woman in the crown started to faint, and Loki could hear what sounded like fighting in the background.

Loki reached forward to catch the infant before the woman fell, and his hands landed on the Casket.

* * *

Odin sensed the pulse of Loki’s seidhr just as the lights flickered.

Ice began to form on the Vault floor.

_No. No! It cannot be._ Odin drew on Gungnir, and cast golden light and warmth around Thor.

“Thor, stay here. Do not move from this spot until I call you.”

“What is it, Father?” Thor’s eyes were filled with fear he desperately wanted to hide. He had no idea what was happening, and the idea that he would be alone in the Vault when something bad was happening was more than he was ready to confront.

“It is just a bit of magic.” Odin waved Gungnir again. “Just stay here, and you will be safe. And warm.”

Odin turned, and Thor watched him struggling to walk, as though moving against a winter storm.

* * *

Frigga’s heart clenched, then skipped a beat. She closed her eyes, and felt Loki’s seidhr. She set down her book and ran from the room, stopping as she approached the Vault doors. Barely nodding to the guards as they opened the doors, she steeled herself for what she might find.

Nothing could have prepared her for this.

The floor of the Vault was a sheet of ice, and ice was creeping up the stairs. Biting winds whipped along the corridors. She saw Thor standing in a circle of golden seidhr, safe and warm.

She headed directly for the niche where the Casket of Winters was kept. _This is like fighting against a blizzard._ She tried to keep her focus on using her seidhr to move forward, and not let her mind be distracted by frightening possibilities.

She saw Odin’s golden seidhr moving in the same direction she was headed. Focusing her seidhr like a spear, she charged forward.

The two of them reached the alcove at the same time. There was Loki, in his birth form, hands planted on the Casket, speaking with it in his native tongue.

Large crimson tears fell from his eyes and landed on the ice-covered floor, solidifying and becoming frozen rubies.

_You are the rightful Prince of Jotunheim. The treacherous Aesir stole you from your family. You are not one of these Golden Folk. You do not belong here._

Wisps of crimson seidhr floated from the Casket as it spoke.

_The power within this chest is yours, my Prince. Claim your birthright. Destroy the Aesir. Return home to your people, and restore Jotunheim’s power and magic._

Frigga’s heart shattered. _Much as Loki’s heart must feel at this moment._

Odin whispered. “Frigga. Let me speak to him.”

After centuries of calm, Frigga’s patience snapped. “No. You stand here. Let us do this right, for once.”

Before Odin could reply, she had moved forward, standing next to Loki, facing the Casket.

Frigga reached out gently with her seidhr, its purple light steady against the wildness of Loki’s blue magic. Where her seidhr came into contact with his, the collision of energies created sparks which, in any other circumstance, would have been a lovely and inspiring sight.

Frigga kept her voice even. “Loki. Loki, I know you can hear me. Please remove your hands from the Casket, so we can talk.”

Loki shook his head.

The Casket continued to whisper. _Believe nothing she says to you. Has she not lied to you your whole life? She does not even call you by your true name._

“Loki, please. I know this is a terrible surprise. But we must talk about it. Let me explain.”

The crimson wisps trailed around the Casket. _They have always told you that you must speak truth. How can she explain lies to you?_

Frigga directed her seidhr at the crimson lights. If she could encase them, perhaps she could silence the Casket, and be able to speak to Loki.

The crimson plumes pulsed and pulled away. Frigga moved her seidhr to form a globe around the plumes, enclosing them in a thin shell. She directed more seidhr, all the time worried that pulling her attention from Loki would leave him vulnerable. He had never had this much magic coursing through him before, and she knew he would collapse soon.

Odin’s golden seidhr reached out and joined Frigga’s to form a thick sphere around the crimson light. Frigga sent a silent thanks to him, and returned her attention to Loki.

“Loki, please. Give me your hands.”

The boy shook his head, clinging to the Casket, and continuing to weep ruby tears.

“My son, please. Take my hand.” Frigga held out her hand towards him, prepared for the bite of cold to come.

Loki stared at her hand, and up at her face. “Mother? Why do you have an Aesir glamour?”

Frigga realized Loki’s mind was still in Jotunheim. “To keep us safe, my son.”

Odin drew more energy from Gungnir, keeping the crimson light contained, and watching with a mix of awe and fascination.

“We must return home, Mother.” Loki was still speaking in Jotun.

“We shall, my son. But first, I must put a protective glamour on you.” Frigga smiled conspiratorially. “Please, son. Take my hands, so I can conceal you.”

Loki slowly withdrew his hands from the Casket, and reached for Frigga. His seidhr was still spinning wildly, but neither she nor Odin dared to break his trust by trying to control it at this moment.

Loki fell, Frigga catching him before he hit the floor. She seated herself on the ice, and pulled her son into her lap.

The crimson light exploded and went dark inside its golden sphere, the explosion echoing throughout the chamber. The leaping blue lights of the Casket dimmed. Odin directed the golden light that had contained the crimson plumes to go towards Frigga and Loki.

Frigga had never felt such intense cold in her life. Not from the ice below her, and certainly not from Loki’s touch. She wrapped herself in seidhr to try to protect against the bite, and directed energy into Loki’s being. All traces of the careful magics she and Odin had spun over him in the centuries since his arrival had shattered and disappeared. He was fully and undeniably Jotun.

Odin knelt next to Frigga, and wrapped his cloak around her and the boy.

“Is he breathing?” Odin feared the worst.

“He is, but slowly.” Frigga’s hand rested lightly on Loki’s chest, barely rising and falling with his respirations.

“We must get him to Eir, _now_.” Odin rose, and reached to pick up Loki from her arms.

“Father, what happened?” Thor looked at his Father, and then his Mother, holding a Frost Giant where Loki should have been. Something tickled at the back of his mind, but he couldn’t figure out what.

Odin wondered how Thor had gotten free of the seidhr. _I will have to think about that later._

“Loki is ill again, Thor. We must take him to Eir. I want you to come with us, and say nothing to anyone along the way.”

Thor nodded. He was too frightened to say anything, or ask any other questions.

Odin cast a glamour over Loki, then wrapped the boy in his cloak so not even his fingertips were visible.

“Hot!” Loki started crying under the weight of the velvet. “Hot!”

Odin cast a second glamour, and silence fell instantly.

Frigga took Thor’s hand, which he had not let her do for a some time now.

Odin walked faster than he had ever walked in his life. Not even in battle had he felt the urgency of each passing moment so keenly, and so desperately.

 


	13. What Child is This?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Loki wakes at last, but he has not recovered. Frigga and Odin struggle to understand what happened, and to understand who this new person is who looks like their son, and acts like a stranger.

 

* * *

Loki had spent over a week in bed, being tended constantly by Frigga, and almost as much by Eir. They had delayed Loki’s First Passage ceremony, and the kingdom anxiously awaited news of the younger Prince’s health each day.

Thor slept in Frigga’s suite, so that he would not be disturbed by the practical and magical work which healing Loki required of her, Odin, and Eir. Thor was physically comfortable in Mother’s suite, and completely miserable in his heart. His last words to Loki had not been exemplary, and he could not speak with anyone about his feelings. Mother was with Loki all day and all night, and Father, while present at meals, was clearly preoccupied, and barely spoke. He had not even called Thor to his study to discuss his lessons. Thor felt completely alone, completely lonely, and completely worthless.

* * *

Odin pulled all of the spell-books that he and Frigga had used when doing the binding work for Loki to end his fevers, and had them taken to the boy’s room. Odin and Frigga did seemingly endless seidhr castings, and Eir applied every medicinal she could find in the few reference books on Jotun physiology that were available to her.

Loki finally regained consciousness after five days of intensive healing work. His eyes opened, he blinked at Frigga, and began to cry. She reached to comfort him, and he pulled away and hid under the covers, continuing to cry. Frigga attempted a sleep-spell on him to allow time for Odin to arrive, and met immediate resistance from his seidhr. She pulled her seidhr back to her, and tried to comfort Loki with soft singing and gentle touches on the blanket. Eventually, his crying stopped.

Hers had just begun.

* * *

“I have healed his body, Your Majesties. I am sorry that my arts can do no more for the Prince.” Eir looked at the sleeping boy, who appeared the picture of recovered health.

“You have exceeded all reasonable expectations, Eir. A week ago, we could not have imagined him as he is now.” Frigga’s eyes did not leave Loki as she spoke. “You have our endless gratitude for your diligence, and your discretion.”

“Indeed, Eir. We owe you a debt of gratitude that cannot be repaid. But we shall try.” Odin watched Frigga, watching Loki.

Eir bowed. “If Your Majesties require anything further that I can do, you need but call.” The healer left the room, closing the door quietly behind her.

With Loki settled into sleep on his own, Frigga had been able to cast a sleep spell on him. They needed time to plan, and without knowing exactly what they would be dealing with when Loki awoke again, being able to extend the time was essential.

“He cried, Odin, and pulled away. He buried himself in the blankets, and cried himself to sleep.” Frigga’s voice expressed her exhaustion, both physical and emotional.

“You did not put a sleep spell on him first?”

“I tried, and his seidhr resisted. Rather than risk—who knows what?—I pulled it back. I did not put the spell on until he was already asleep.”

Odin permitted himself to sigh. He had been doing it rather a lot of late, and found that it did help, somehow. “Do you think you could have put one on him, though?”

“Yes, but given that he fears me, I did not want to give him more reasons for fear and distrust.” Frigga’s eyes were edged with tears. “My son. I am so sorry we hurt you like this.”

“I should not have let him wander the Vault alone.” Odin shook his head.

Frigga’s voice was as crisp as the cold wind that had blown through the Vault. “No, you shouldn’t have. But you did. And here we are.”

Odin wondered if his wife would ever forgive him.

Odin wondered if he would ever forgive himself.

“He’s never shown the slightest interest in the Casket, and he’s never touched anything. For him to have done this . . . .”

“We need to find out what happened, Odin.” Frigga looked him in the eye, steel in her voice. “Until we know what happened, we won’t know what to do.”

Odin nodded. “Let us look, then.”

He waved Gungnir, and chanted quietly. Loki’s blue seidhr spun up instantly, and created a frame.

Frigga and Odin watched as the seidhr formed images inside the frame.

They saw Loki approach the Casket, his curiosity leading him to watch the lights.

They watched Loki as he watched the scenes the Casket had shown him, and they, too, saw and heard what had happened in the Temple all those years ago.

They watched as he leaned forward to catch the infant.

They watched through Loki’s eyes as he shed his glamour and took on his Jotun form.

They heard the voice of the Casket, urging Loki to reclaim his power, to destroy the Aesir, the lying Aesir.

They saw Frigga through Loki’s eyes, pleading with her son to take her hand.

Then, darkness.

The seidhr faded.

They sat in silence as the long minutes passed.

* * *

Odin’s first thought had been to erase the memories from Loki’s mind. Frigga argued, refusing to even attempt it. Odin had relented, reluctantly in agreement that, even if it were possible, the resulting damage to Loki’s mind would be greater than the damage already done to his soul. And even if they could erase them from Loki’s mind, there was still the problem of what Thor had seen, and there was no way they could endanger both of their sons with such unpredictable results.

Frigga had kept Loki in a seidhr-sleep for almost a full day to give them time to sort out their plans. Ready at last to face their son, Frigga lifted the spell.

Loki’s seidhr pulsed, and he sat bolt upright in bed, eyes wide and unfocused.

Odin was ready to cast in an instant, should it prove necessary. They had agreed that Frigga would do the talking, and Odin would speak only if Loki addressed a question directly to him.

Loki shook himself, blinked, and shook again.

He turned and saw Frigga and Odin, sitting next to his bed.

Staring at Frigga, he demanded, “Why did you lie?” Gone was the sweet voice of the boy who had accompanied his father and brother to the vault. This new person had a voice with an edge of ice.

“What did I lie about, Loki?” Frigga’s voice was smooth and low.

“I am not your son. I am not Aesir.” He paused. “I am a monster.”

“You are our son, Loki. Family is not simply who you are born to; family are the people who love you, and care for you, and care about you.”

“Perhaps.” Loki considered her words. “But I am nonetheless a monster.”

“You are Jotun by birth. You are not a monster.”

“Then why do Asgardian parents tell their children tales of the terrible creatures of Jotunheim, who will eat them if they misbehave?” Loki’s voice grated with anger.

“They are simply stories, Loki. They are not true. Doubtless, the Jotuns tell their children of the terrible Aesir.”

“But those stories are true. The Aesir slaughtered the Jotuns in their Temple, and stole a baby. Stole their prince.” Loki's eyes were as cold as his voice.

 

“Loki, when he brought you here, your father—“

Loki cut in, his voice still hard with ice. “You mean, Odin, King of Asgard.”

Odin’s heart ached. It was not supposed to be like this. Who was this person filled with rage against him, against all the Aesir?

“When he brought you here, Odin thought you were a girl. A princess, who could unite Jotunheim and Asgard through a marriage alliance with Thor. It wasn’t until you were already here that he discovered you were a boy.”

Loki’s smile twisted. “So not only am I a monster, I’m the _wrong kind_ of monster.”

“Not at all, Loki!” Frigga’s eyes glimmered, tears at the corners. “When we realized you were a boy, we resolved that the two of you would be raised together as brothers. When the time came, we would tell you, and tell Farbauti, about your identity. You would ascend the throne of Jotunheim, and rule it in peace, as Thor would rule Asgard.”

Odin drew up energy from Gungnir, willing himself into silence and letting Frigga do the talking. _I could not have handled this in a worse way if I had tried to do everything wrong._

“A pretty tale, I must say.” The ice layered more thickly in Loki’s voice. “So, yes, we were both born to be kings. You just never mentioned that I would have to leave the only home I’ve known and go to live in a land where I know nothing of the people or customs, except the warped and twisted tales from the Asgardian history books.”

“I begged him to tell you, to tell everyone, from the start, Loki.” Frigga paused. “He convinced me we should wait, to give everyone on both sides time to recover from the war.”

Odin continued to grip Gungnir, fighting to keep the words inside which he’d suppressed for so long, and wanted nothing more than to say them out loud at this very moment.

“Your father—Odin—swore he would tell you at your first passage.”

Loki turned to Odin. “Was that what you were supposed to say that night you called me to you?”

Odin nodded. “Yes, it was.”

Loki laughed. “You told me I was special. And I believed you! I thought you meant it in a good way, though.”

Odin managed to keep his voice steady. “I did mean it in a good way. I still do.”

“Why didn’t you tell me from the start? Why did you let me think I was your son? That I was one of you?” Loki’s voice was hollow, and yet filled with pain and anger.

“Because I loved you as my son. You are my son. You are one of us. You are a Prince of Asgard. Loki Odinson. _My son._ ”

Loki’s eyes filled with tears. “I want that to be true, more than anything.” His breath caught, and the tears spilled over. “I so want that to be true.”

* * *

Loki had wept, and allowed Frigga to hold him as he fell asleep, exhausted from the emotional turmoil. When he awoke the next day, Frigga held her breath, watching him.

“Good morning, Mother.” Loki’s tone was even, but the ice had melted from his speech.

Frigga exhaled. “Good morning, Loki. How are you feeling?”

“I am well, Mother, thank you. I should like some breakfast, though.” He smiled at her, a genuine expression of affection.

“I will ask Anna to bring you a tray, Loki. What would you like?”

“Whatever you think I should eat, Mother, will be fine.”

“I will be right back, Loki.” Frigga kissed his forehead, and went to the sitting room to ring for Anna.

 


	14. Back to the (New) Normal

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Loki has recovered physically, but everyone in the family has a lot of healing to do.

 

* * *

Eir had pronounced Loki fully healed physically, and his usual color and energy had returned. He had spent that first day reading in his sitting room, and had to be coaxed into bed at a reasonable hour.

The next morning, Loki joined his family at the breakfast table, and then resumed lessons with Thor in the classroom with Master Nils.

Thor and Loki had not spent any time together, just the two of them, since the last conversation they had that had gone so very wrong. Thor found it difficult to focus on his lessons. Now that Loki was well, Thor could return to the room they shared, and Thor found himself wondering what to say to Loki this afternoon. Everything he had known about his family had changed, and he still wasn’t entirely sure what to think about it.

Thor considered the past two weeks. The first night after the incident in the Vault, Father had called Thor to his study, and told Thor he could ask any questions he wished about what had happened. Thor asked Father to explain how the Casket could have turned Loki into a Frost Giant. Odin swore his son to secrecy, and told Thor the story of Loki’s birth, and Odin’s decision to bring him to Asgard. Thor listened in stunned silence, wondering how he never guessed that his brother was actually a Frost Giant.

That conversation had left Thor with more questions, but as he couldn’t articulate them to ask them, he had no answers. And he had no one to talk to—Mother was still with Loki all day and all night, and he certainly couldn’t talk to any of his friends about it. He began to wonder if things would be this complicated when he became King. He knew Father had many secrets, and he wondered if he would ever be able to keep as many secrets as Father did. Maybe being King wasn’t as much fun as he had always thought it would be.

“And so, Prince Thor, what do you think? Was that the right decision?” Master Nils was looking at him, and Thor knew that the tutor was aware he had not been paying attention.

“I’m sorry, Master Nils. Which decision?” Thor hoped he hadn’t been so distracted as to miss an entire discussion. History was not his strong point, except for battles, and today’s lesson had not been about battles.

“Prince Loki, perhaps you could catch your brother up on our discussion.” Master Nils’ smile was polite, but his tone expressed his displeasure at his pupil’s lack of attention.

Loki barely smiled before speaking. “When your grandfather, King Bor, defeated the Dark Elves and captured the Aether, he ordered it destroyed. Master Nils asked if you thought that was the right decision.”

Thor tried not to wince at the word “your” in front of “grandfather”. That was a new twist of speech from Loki.

Thor took a deep breath. “The Dark Elves were destroyed, and their weapon had no constructive use. So yes, our grandfather made the right decision.” Thor hoped that his use of the word “our” would register with Loki.

Master Nils continued. “And then when your father, King Odin, defeated the Jotuns, he did not destroy the Casket of Ancient Winters. Rather, he took it from them, and is keeping it locked in the Vault.”

Thor felt like he was going to be sick. There was no way Master Nils could have known about Loki’s birth, or the events that had taken place in the Vault, so he could not intend anything negative towards Loki.

_How am I supposed to handle this? I must not let Loki become upset._

Thor took a deep breath. “Father explained that the situation with the Jotuns was different. That they still live, and thus there is the possibility of creating peace with them in the future. Rather than destroy their magic, he is keeping it guarded until such time as it might be returned to them to use in a peaceable manner for the well-being of their realm.”

Master Nils stared in near-shock at Thor. Loki had listened without moving; Thor wasn’t sure his brother was even breathing.

The silence in the room was overwhelming.

_I should not have said that. That was not for Master Nils to know. Perhaps not even for Loki to know just yet._

“That is an interesting theory, Prince Thor. However, we all know that the Jotuns are not a peaceable people, and so the probability that the Casket will ever be returned to them is near-zero. Your father was doubtless simply giving you a lesson in politics.”

Thor jumped up from his desk, shouting. “You have no idea what you are saying! You have never been to Jotunheim! You have never met a Jotun! You wouldn’t know a Frost Giant if one bit your hand! How could you slander an entire people like that?”

Master Nils recoiled. “Prince Thor! Please, calm down.” He pushed his glasses into place with nervous fingers. “The history books all bear the same tales: the Frost Giants are a ruthless and bloodthirsty race, and their envy of our prosperity causes them to desire to conquer and destroy Asgard.”

Thor glanced at Loki. _This cannot be happening_.

Loki’s smile had twisted in a perfect expression of wry amusement, with more than a touch of anger. Thor had never seen such a look on Loki’s face before.

“Thor, please. Do calm down.” Loki smiled at him, green eyes filled with mischief. “Master Nils is here to teach us, not we to teach him.”

“But Loki, Master Nils is _wrong_. His books are _wrong_.” Thor’s anger had calmed, but the intense energy had not dissipated. “The Jotuns are no worse and no better than we are.”

Loki’s eyes continued to sparkle. “So you are saying, Thor, that we would not even notice a Frost Giant sitting in this room if they had a sufficiently convincing glamour?”

Thor stared at his brother. _I cannot believe he just said that._

“Prince Thor, please. Sit down, and let us resume the lesson.” The tutor looked nervously at his notes, and back at the boys.

“I must speak with Father.” Thor turned and stalked out of the room.

* * *

Thor marched into Odin's study. Surprised, his father looked up, curious as to the reason for his son’s unexpected arrival.

“Thor, my son, what troubles you?"

“Father, Loki and I have outgrown Master Nils. He is no longer able to challenge us, and we require a new tutor.” Thor’s voice had an unexpected firmness his father was surprised—and pleased—to hear.

“Now, Thor, Master Nils is a learned man, and has much to teach.” Odin was surprised by Thor’s statement; he had not expected this at all.

“Father, his knowledge is limited, and in some cases, absolutely incorrect.” Thor shook his head. “You would not believe what he said about the Jotuns today."

Odin sat back in his chair and set his pen on the desk. “Please, Thor, enlighten me."

“He said that the Jotuns are a ruthless and bloodthirsty race, and that they desire nothing except Asgard’s destruction.” Thor’s anger flared to the surface. “He slandered an entire race, speaking from ignorance and bias. And he insulted a Prince of Asgard.”

Odin shook his head. “He does not know Loki's heritage. He could not have known what he was saying was an insult to your brother.”

“It’s not just an insult to Loki, Father! He insulted the entire race! Just as all of our people do.” Thor shook his head. “If our wisest teachers instruct our children in ignorance and fear, what hope do we have of making peace with Jotunheim? That is your plan still, is it not?”

Thor’s defense of the Frost Giants surprised Odin. Of course Thor would defend his brother, but for Thor to have remembered Odin’s discussion of his plans for the future, and the goal of peace, made him realize how much Thor had grown in the past two weeks.

"Yes, that is my plan. When you ascend to the throne of Asgard, we will be able to make peace with Jotunheim.”

“Then why do you let our people believe that the Jotuns are monsters, and incapable of peace? They will never trust a treaty with the Frost Giants, no matter who is their King.”

_How am I to answer this?_ Odin stared at his son.

Thor returned his father’s gaze, and quickly understood what his father had not said.

“Father, you cannot send Loki away like that!” Thor was stunned that his father would even consider such a plan. “To banish him from the land of his childhood, from his family, his friends? To send him to that cold, icy place where he knows no one, and nothing of the land except the lies he has been told in Asgard?”

“I will not banish Loki. He, too, is my son, and I could not do that to either of you.” Odin paused. “He will ascend the throne in Jotunheim, somehow. I must discuss it with Farbauti, and we are set to do so, soon.”

“Have you told this to Loki?” Thor was aghast at the idea that Loki had been carrying this knowledge, and this pain.

“Not directly, no. But he is clever, and has already pieced out most of the puzzle on his own, without my saying a word.” Odin sighed. “This is not how any of this was supposed to happen.”

“You will not take my brother from me. Not today, not next year, not in a hundred years.” Thor’s defiance startled Odin out of his thoughts. “Loki is my brother, he is of Asgard, and we will rule this realm, together.”

Thor turned and stalked out of the room.

* * *

Thor desperately wanted to talk about what was going on, to come up with a plan of action so he could fix everything. His conversation with Father had not gone well at all, and he knew that if he tried to speak with Mother, she would focus on what had happened with Father and trying to smooth that out. He could not speak to anyone who did not already know about Loki’s birth; the King would sort things out with Farbauti, and then would break the news to the people of Asgard once the succession had been set. But for now, the only other person who knew was Loki himself.

Thor walked into the sitting room of the suite he shared with his brother. Loki was draped sideways across one of the overstuffed chairs, long legs dangling over the arms, reading. A completely familiar sight, and yet somehow different.

_It does not matter that he is a Jotun by birth. He is still my brother._

Yet Thor could not deny that Loki had changed. How he moved, how he held himself, how he spoke—the boy who had gone into the Vault two weeks ago was not the person who was sitting in this room now.

“Brother! May I enter?” Thor smiled warmly.

“It is your room as much as mine, is it not, Thor?” Loki’s smile was pleasant, if not especially warm.

Thor sat in the chair next to Loki’s. “It is good to see you, Loki.” Thor swallowed. “I missed you, and even though Mother and Father assured me you would be well, I was worried you would not recover.”

“And yet, here am I, healthy and whole as can be.” Loki’s smile had not wavered.

“I am glad of that, Loki. It was—uncertain, for a while.” Thor remembered Mother’s eyes, red from worry and weeping and lack of rest, staring at her youngest son as he traveled dark paths in his restless not-sleep.

“Now, Thor, I almost think you would have missed me had I not returned!” Loki’s eyes flashed. Thor thought it looked more like anger than mischief.

“Brother! How could you doubt it?” Thor was perplexed by Loki’s response.

“Well, I am but a ruthless and bloodthirsty Jotun, desirous of nothing but Asgard’s destruction. That could be a damper to your affections.” Loki’s voice was edged with ice.

Thor stared at his brother, horrified. “Loki, you know that is not true! You heard me argue with Nils about it today. The Jotuns are no better and no worse than the Aesir, for all that our people try to pretend otherwise.”

“ _Your_ people, Thor.” Loki shook his head. “After all, _I_ am one of the monsters.”

“Loki, stop it!” Thor rose from his chair, and pulled Loki to his feet. Cradling the back of Loki’s neck with his hand, Thor stared directly into his brother’s eyes. “Loki Odinson, Loki of Jotunheim, I don’t care what you call yourself! You are my brother, and I love you, and nothing has changed that.”

Sadness flashed across Loki’s eyes. “Last time we spoke, Thor, you were going to be king, and I would bow to you.” He smirked faintly. “Did you already know then?”

“Loki, I didn’t know, and I didn’t mean that! We are to be kings, together!” Thor was almost frantic. “You are my brother, no matter where you were born.”

Loki relaxed into Thor’s hand.

“The first morning after Father brought you to Asgard—I didn’t know it then, of course—and I met you in your little basket at the breakfast table. I swore to our parents that as your big brother, I would always take care of you, and protect you. I swear that oath again today: Loki Odinson, Loki Son of Farbauti, you are my brother. I will always take care of you, and protect you. I pledge this here and now, and always!”

A sob escaped Loki’s throat as tears spilled from his emerald eyes. Thor pulled his brother close, and sealed his promise with his own tears.

 


	15. Meanwhile, Back on Jotunheim, Part III

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Odin wishes to speak with Farbauti. The feeling is not mutual. They speak, and it goes about as well as one might expect—which is to say, badly.
> 
> And then things become really complicated.

* * *

“My King!”

Farbauti snapped back to the present moment at hearing the voice of his cousin.

“My King!” Sirel raced up and knelt before his liege. “A message from Asgard.” Sirel held up a leather pouch, embossed with the coat of arms of Asgard’s royal house.

Farbauti’s rage leapt to life in an instant. The last time he had seen that design had been on the wooden crate which the Allfather had used to steal the Casket of Ancient Winters.

Still holding the case towards Farbauti, Sirel continued. “The messenger is waiting for a reply.”

As much as Farbauti the man wanted to send the message back unread in the hands of the dead messenger, Farbauti the king knew something unusual must have occurred for Odin to bother contacting him. Once Asgard had withdrawn its armies, no further communications had come from the Realm Eternal.

Farbauti took the case, and withdrew the tablet inside of it. He waved his hand over the tablet, gold seidhr-light illuminating the script on what had appeared to be a blank slate.

 

_Greetings, Farbauti, King of Jotunheim:_

_Many years have passed since our realms were at war. The time has come for us to take the next step, and move from a passive truce to an active peace. I would like to meet with you to discuss how to direct our realms onto a path of cooperation and mutual benefit._

_Odin Borson, Allfather, King of Valhalla_

 

Farbauti would have never imagined receiving such a message from Odin. Ever.

_What could the Allfather possibly want from Jotunheim? They took my wife and child, they took the Casket._

Farbauti withdrew the blank tablet he knew would be inside the bag, and wrote a brief reply. He waved his hand over the tablet, and it was once again blank to any other viewer.

He put the second tablet back into the leather pouch, and handed it to his cousin. “Give this to Odin’s messenger.”

Sirel rose. “I shall carry the message, my King.”

* * *

Odin stole a glance at Loki. His Aesir glamour was whole and bright, resting naturally on him as he slept on the divan in the small room. Odin had enchanted him while they were still in his study, then carried the sleeping boy through the secret passage to this room. Only the King and Queen of Asgard knew about the passageway, and about this room, and Odin did not want to burden the boy with any further knowledge that was not absolutely necessary for him to learn just now. Loki had had quite enough of that recently.

Odin lifted the cloth which concealed the Casket of Winters, the other reason he had enchanted Loki before bringing him to this space. While Loki seemed to be fully recovered from the incident in the Vault, Odin knew that there were deep injuries which would take much longer to heal, and did not want to traumatize the boy with the sight of the Casket, the item that had brought them all to this point. He covered the Casket again, and turned away.

Odin looked at the mirror in its ornate frame. He had arranged with Farbauti to hold their discussion via the speaking glass each King owned. Odin did not trust his safety on Jotunheim, and he knew Farbauti would not feel safe in Asgard, despite any assurances Odin might offer. Odin had unsealed the mirror, and stood patiently just to the side of it.

At the appointed time, the mirror shimmered, and Farbauti’s image appeared in the glass. Odin steeled himself, and stepped in front of his own mirror.

“Well, Allfather?” Farbauti’s tone was harsh.

“Thank you, Farbauti, for your courtesy to my messenger, and for agreeing to speak with me today.” Odin was glad to be standing; it helped him feel more in control of himself and of the situation.

“I admit, Odin, it is merely curiosity which led to my agreeing to this meeting. As I have a Realm to rule—as do you—whatever the matter at hand is, let us proceed. I do not have all day to indulge my curiosity.”

“Can you see behind me, Farbauti? The boy sleeping on the divan?” Odin stepped aside a bit, and gestured to Loki.

“I can.”

“This is the youngest Prince of Asgard, Loki.”

“You are cruel to brag of having two sons, Odin. I, who should have one, have none. But I should not have been surprised that your soldiers acted as they did. Cruelty is an Asgardian specialty.” Farbauti felt no need to temper his speech with Odin. Odin knew what his soldiers and done, and, despite making a formal apology to Farbauti, the King of Asgard had done nothing to convey his personal sorrow or remorse.

“Farbauti, that was long ago. I cannot say how sorry I am that the war claimed your Queen and wife.”

“And my son, also, Allfather. My son, my heir, my prince.”

Odin bowed his head to collect his thoughts.

Farbauti waited in silence.

Odin regained his composure. “I am going to show you something, Farbauti.”

“Please do.”

Odin turned slightly, and waved Gungnir towards the boy.

Farbauti watched as the Aesir appearance faded, and a Jotun child appeared on the divan.

Farbauti’s breath caught.

He leaned closer to the mirror to better see the boy’s face.

_It cannot be._

The lines on the child’s face bore the markings of Farbauti and Laufey.

_It cannot be_.

Farbauti’s anger, which he had thought extinguished fully when he took Lacaia as his wife, flared anew.

“You are cruel, Odin, to try to deceive me with glamours and tricks.”

“This is no glamour, and no trick, Farbauti. The boy we call Loki is your son Vonir.”

“You like, Borson! My wife died in the Temple from blood loss in bringing him life. He disappeared when your soldiers pillaged our Temple! Vonir died the night of his birth.” Farbauti let his rage flow through him and into his voice, confronting the Asgardian King with centuries of pain.

“I do not lie, Farbauti. You see your son, here.”

“You are a skilled magician and a cool liar, Odin. My son is dead. This is a glamour you have cast to deceive me, for reasons not yet clear to me.”

“I will prove to you that I speak the truth, Farbauti.”

Odin turned, and removed the cloth covering the Casket of Ancient Winters. He heard a growl from Farbauti’s side of the glass, the same growl baby Loki had made years before when Odin first led him to the Casket.

“Now, watch.” The blue lights in the Casket began to dance, and the crimson seidhr began to spin inside of it. It was unable to escape, as Odin had bound it prior to bringing it from the Vault.

“I see nothing unusual, Borson.”

Odin moved the Casket over, setting it down a few inches from the sleeping boy.

The blue seidhr spun up from Loki’s sleeping form as soon as it had sensed the presence of the Casket. The crimson seidhr pulsed inside the Casket, trying to spin out to meet it.

Farbauti watched, unable to breathe.

_It cannot be._

_And yet._

“The Casket recognizes the Prince of Jotunheim.” Odin’s voice was quiet. “Your son lives, Farbauti. And he is here, safely fostered in Asgard.”

“Why do you show me this, Borson?” Farbauti’s heart was pounding with rage, and with hope.

“Loki has discovered the truth of his birth, and his heritage. It is time he becomes acquainted with his native land and people.”

“To what end? Why now, when you have kept him hidden for so long?” Farbauti’s anger was balanced by the thought that his son was, indeed, alive.

“We can make a permanent peace between our realms, Farbauti. My son on the throne of Asgard, your son on the throne of Jotunheim.”

“You mock me, Allfather. You mock Jotunheim. This is all a clever plot to reduce us to further misery.” Farbauti stood taller. “I will not believe you, Borson. I will leave you, and your lies. Good day, Allfather.”

Before Odin could speak, Farbauti waved his hand and closed the connection.

Odin saw only his own reflection in the mirror, and that of the sleeping Jotun child.

* * *

Farbauti had never been so angry in his life.

_How dare the Asgardian lie to me so? And to what purpose?_

He waved his hand to seal the mirror so it could not receive any incoming connections. He wrapped the mirror in its cover, and locked it in its storage chest. He removed the chest to the outer room of his study, and locked it into the cabinet, bound with spells, made to hide it.

Farbauti turned and walked to the chapel.

_I must speak with Laufey._

* * *

Having spent far longer in the Chapel than he expected, Farbauti returned to his study.

_Vonir lives._

Farbauti tried to imagine his son, his eldest child, the baby he had never seen. The child who had been lost in the war with the Aesir, along with his Queen, his wife.

And the Casket.

_What could the child possibly know of Jotunheim? Of me?_

_That we are all monsters, and live in a dark and desolate land. That I tried to kill the man he thinks is his father._

How could he expect Odin to release Vonir back to him?

How could he expect that Vonir would want to return to his real home, his true family—a place he had no memory of, and people he had never known?

Farbauti wanted his son.

Would Vonir want his father?

_I want my son to come home._

* * *

Lacaia’s voice came softly through the darkness. “Farbauti? Are you here?”

Farbauti sat up, surprised to find himself sitting in the dark. Suddenly aware of how much time had passed, he was unsurprised that Lacaia had come to find him. “Yes, my love, I am here.”

He lit an ice candle, and motioned for her to join him on the divan. He admired her grace as she crossed the room and sat next to him.

“Are you well, Farbauti?” Lacaia’s voice was calm, but he could hear the worry.

He kissed her forehead. “I am fine, my dear. I simply lost track of time.”

“What did the Aesir have to say?” Lacaia had been waiting patiently to hear the news.

Farbauti shifted. “Some news, which I must consider. And then we can consider it together.”

Lacaia nodded. She knew he would not speak of it until he had thought it through.

“I have some news of my own as well, Farbauti.” She was suddenly quiet.

“Whatever news you have, Lacaia, we will manage together.” Farbauti was shaken by his conversation with Odin, and the sudden need to be strong for Lacaia brought him back to center.

“Farbauti,” she stammered. “I—we—there will be—“

Farbauti put his arm around her shoulder, and drew her close. “Whatever it is my love, we will face together.” Farbauti wondered what had happened that had so thoroughly disconcerted his Queen.

Lacaia composed herself. “I am with child, Farbauti. You are going to be a father again!” Lacaia’s face lit up with love for her husband, and the joy of giving him news she knew he had been hoping to hear.

Farbauti knew he needed to be happy for his wife and his Queen, even if he himself was uncertain of his feelings. He had been waiting so long to hear her speak this words, eager to welcome a child into their household. But that was before he had spoken with Odin.

Farbauti smiled with love and genuine affection. “My love! Lacaia! How wonderful!” He kissed her sweetly, allowing himself to feel the joy of the moment, without the burden of his thoughts.

He instinctively patted her belly. “Our child will be strong and healthy, and you will be strong and healthy.” He knew that the stresses of war and the near-famine that resulted had likely caused Laufey’s difficulties with her pregnancy and labor, and he gave thanks that Lacaia was carrying their child in a time of peace and relative plenty.

“The seer said we are to have a boy, Farbauti!” Lacaia beamed with gladness. “A prince for you, my love!”

An hour ago, Farbauti would have wanted nothing more than to hear these words. Now, suddenly, it was all much too complicated. But he would not spoil this moment for Lacaia; he would not say anything to her today.

“He will be clever, and strong, and we will be the best parents we can possibly be.” Farbauti kissed Lacaia again. “We will all be happy and life will be good.”

 


	16. A Father's Choice

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A father must choose what is best for his son.

* * *

Sirel entered the study with a bow. “My King—“

Farbauti recognized the leather satchel. “A message from Asgard. I have been expecting it.”

Sirel had expected to find his cousin in a better mood than he appeared to be in. The news of the Queen’s pregnancy had spread quickly throughout the court, and the universal response had been joyful.

“Set it on my desk. I will tend to it.” Farbauti looked away, unable to meet his cousin’s eyes.

“As you wish, My King.” Sirel placed the satchel as instructed, and made to leave.

“Sirel.” Farbauti’s voice was low. “Cousin. Do not leave yet.”

“Of course, Farbauti. As you wish.” Sirel’s mind raced. He knew the message must be grave to have such an effect on Farbauti. He tried not to think about war, but was unable to come up with another reason why his cousin would be so solemn on a day when he should have been joyful.

Farbauti spoke as he pulled the tablets from the satchel. “Please, be seated.”

Sirel took the chair nearest Farbauti’s desk. He knew that his cousin would speak in his own time, and all he could do was to wait calmly.

Farbauti waved a hand over the tablet, which glowed with gold seidhr-light.

 

_Greetings, Farbauti, King of Jotunheim:_

_I am desirous of seeing a lasting peace between our realms.  
_ Why, then, did you steal my child?

_Now that Loki is aware of his true parentage,  
_ “Loki”. What a name.

_and you are aware that your son and heir still lives, we must reach equitable terms for his education and future role as King of Jotunheim.  
_ How nice of you to care, Allfather. And not at all presumptuous.

_As Loki has known no other home than Asgard, and he is still tender in years, we will continue to raise him in my household.  
_ You are holding my son hostage. You think I cannot take him from you, Odin?

_However, in order that he might become familiar with his future kingdom and its people, as well as his family of origin,  
_ Again with the presumption, Allfather.

_I believe it best that he have some contact with you, in small amounts at first, and increasing over time. To that end, I will arrange for him to converse with you via the speaking glass, and establish a regular weekly time for ongoing contact, that the two of you may become well-acquainted.  
_ You have my son, Odin. I would be more than well-acquainted had you not stolen him from me.

_Reply with the schedule that suits you, and I will have Loki prepared.  
_ You cannot prepare him for this, Odin. How could anyone prepare a child for this?

_Odin Borson, Allfather, King of Valhalla_

His voice tight with anger, Farbauti commanded, “Sirel, fetch Jorku. Send a carriage, carry him up the stairs in a litter, whatever it takes. I must see him. Now. Here.”

Sirel rose. “Of course, my King.” He knew the old man was unwell, and he also knew that tone in Farbauti’s voice. “I shall return presently, with Jorku.”

 

* * *

“King Farbauti.” Jorku entered the room slowly, leaning on his staff.

“Jorku, my friend. Thank you for coming so quickly.” Farbauti rose, and assisted Jorku to a chair. He was pleased to note that the older man had not required assistance up the stairs, and wanted to make sure he was comfortable after his exertion.

Farbauti closed the door, and sat in the chair facing Jorku.

“Today is a day of great joy, my King. My congratulations to you and to your Queen.” Jorku’s smile faded. “But I do not believe you have called me here to give me good news in person. Something is amiss in the realm, or you would not have summoned me.”

Farbauti nodded. “In consideration of your health, I know I should have traveled to your home, Jorku. But what I have to discuss with you cannot go beyond these walls. Not yet, anyway. And in this room, I know what is said here will remain here.”

Jorku’s face was neutral. “Of course. There are great magics around this place.”

Farbauti nodded. “And you are a man of honor, Jorku. That is more powerful than any magic.”

“As it should be.” Jorku settled back in the chair. "What is the issue before you, my King?”

“I received a message from Asgard two days ago, arranging a meeting for yesterday. And today, I received an additional message from that realm.”

“What business does Asgard wish with Jotunheim? They surely have no quarrel with us, after so many years.”

“Odin wished to show me his youngest son, the one they call Loki.”

Jorku raised an eyebrow. “What would he hope to accomplish by doing so?”

Farbauti took a breath to steady his voice, which Jorku noticed. “The boy was sleeping. Odin removed the boy’s glamour.”

Jorku stared at Farbauti, comprehension dawning in his eyes. “His glamour.”

“The child Asgard claims as its younger prince is actually the elder prince of Jotunheim, my Vonir.”

Jorku exhaled. “That is . . . unexpected.”

“Indeed it is.”

“You are certain the boy is your son? That this is not some trickery on the part of Asgard?” Jorku knew full well the magical abilities of that realm’s ruler, and found it easier to believe that Odin was trying to trick Farbauti than to believe the Jotun prince still lived.

“If it is an illusion, it is the most perfect one ever created. He has my markings, and those of his mother. He has blue seidhr.”

“Asgard’s king is a clever magician. He can create highly convincing illusions.”

“The Casket recognizes him.”

Jorku bowed his head. “It must be, then. Prince Vonir lives.”

“And this was merely an hour before Lacaia gave me her news.”

Jorku looked up. “My King, this is indeed a complicated situation. But you know the right thing to do. You did not need to call me here.”

“I know what the King thinks, and I know what the husband feels. I need guidance from my friend, who is also my wisest councillor.”

“Farbauti, he is your son. If you have any chance of returning him to Jotunheim, you must take it, whatever the Allfather requires. Prince Vonir belongs in this realm, with his family.”

“He knows nothing of us, except the lies the Aesir have told him. He thinks Borson and his kin are his family, and all he knows of me is that I tried to kill the man he until recently knew as his father—the man who has raised him as I should have, and who has, indeed, been his father, albeit not his sire.”

“He knows he is one of us. He will come to Jotunheim, become acquainted the the land and the people, and with his true family. He will be content here, in the end, as this is his true home.”

Farbauti's face spoke his grief. “Our people would not trust a King who was raised by our enemies.”

“Our people will trust the eldest son of our current King, who will raise his son with proper care and wisdom to be a good and wise King.”

“How can I tell Lacaia?” Farbauti’s anguish darkened his face.

“The same way you told me, Farbauti. As King.”

“I am also her husband, and she is carrying our child. A son she thinks will be the next King of Jotunheim.”

“You are the King. Your will is absolute.”

Farbauti sighed. “You are correct, Jorku. And yet . . .” Farbauti’s heart ached. He could have his first child returned to him, at the expense of his wife’s love, and their shared joy at having their own son.

“Your wife will be angry. She will be hurt.” Jorku shook his head. “As Queen, she will come to accept it.”

“I do not see how she can reconcile herself to knowing that her son will be second to Laufey’s son.”

“She is a woman of great depth. She may take a while, but she will come to live with it. Be patient, both King and husband.”

Farbauti leaned forward, and took Jorku’s hand. “Please, do whatever you can to comfort her. I know she will turn to you, and to Moreia.”

The older man nodded. “I will do all I can. But she is the one who must govern her heart.”

“Thank you, Jorku. My friend. You always know what to do, and what to say.”

Jorku smiled. “It is my pleasure to serve my King, and to aid my friend.”

“I should not keep you any longer. I will call the steward to assist you with the stairs.”

Jorku nodded. “Thank you, my King. I appreciate your kindness.”

“You have always been a good example for me in that regard, Jorku.”

The old man paused, seeing once again, just for a moment, the ambitious young prince he had known. “You have become a good example in that regard yourself, Farbauti.”

* * *

Farbauti looked at the tablet once again. He was still not entirely certain of the response he was sending to Asgard, but he had kept the Asgardian messenger overnight, and could detain him no longer without creating unnecessary alarm in the other realm.

Escorted to the King’s presence by Sirel, the messenger from Asgard was ready to return to his own land. While the King had provided him warm and comfortable accommodations, he had not planned to be gone so long, or spend so much time among these strange creatures.

“Take this to your King.” Farbauti gestured to the tablet, which the messenger picked up and placed in his bag. “If he inquires, do tell him this is my final word.”

The messenger nodded. “Thank you, King Farbauti, for your hospitality. Your folk have been most kind.” He made a half-bow, uncertain what the Jotun customs might be.

“Remember that when your people speak evil of us.” Farbauti’s voice was flat.

The messenger paled. “Of course, King Farbauti.”

“Good. Now leave us.” Farbauti turned away, looking out the window. He heard the footsteps as his cousin and the Asgardian left the room, and heard the door close.

_I have done the right thing. For Vonir, for Jotunheim._

_And for Lacaia._

* * *

The messenger’s unease was greater than it had been when he had stood in Farbauti’s study. The King was obviously angry, and the Queen looked ready to lash out. “He declared that he had no further response, Your Majesty.”

“Leave us.” Odin’s voice was sharp.

The messenger bowed hastily, and fled the room. The guards in the hallway closed the door behind him, leaving Frigga and Odin alone in his study.

“It cannot be.” Odin stared at the tablet.

“What kind of man would deny his own son?” Frigga’s voice was filled with pain. Loki had already been through so much. How could they possibly explain this to him?

Odin stared at the tablet, the blue letters glowing dimly.

 

_Odin~_

_Jotunheim, its people, and its King, have had more than enough of the mockery of you and your folk. We will engage in no further discussions._

_Farbauti, King of Jotunheim_

 

“This was not how it was supposed to happen, Frigga.” Odin’s voice expressed his frustration all too clearly.

“And yet it has happened this way, Odin.” Frigga’s voice conveyed her anger. “And now we must make a new plan.”

Odin shook his head. “Farbauti must agree. He must acknowledge his son.”

“Did you not read the message, Odin? In what universe do you think Farbauti will agree to speak with you, much less agree to your plans for Loki?”

“He must, Frigga. Loki must take the throne of Jotunheim when Thor takes the throne of Asgard.”

Frigga stared in disbelief. “That is hundreds of years in the future, Odin. What do we tell our son _today_?”

“We will not say anything. Not today.”

Frigga’s voice was filled with ice. “Because that plan has worked so well before.”

Odin’s temper snapped. “This was not what should have happened! If it had all gone the way I planned, we would not have these problems!”

Frigga’s tone did not change. “Perhaps you should have told the Nornir, then, so They could weave Wyrd according to your will, rather than Their design.”

Odin sat back in his chair. “Frigga, I need you to be on my side in this. Everything is working against me. I need my Queen—and my wife—to stand with me.”

“Then devise a plan I can side with you on, Odin.”

Frigga stood and stalked out of the study.

Odin slumped in his chair.

_This is not how it was supposed to be_.

 


	17. We Are Your Family

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The next day. Odin has not much of a plan, and even less time. Then the Nornir call him to Their presence.
> 
> What is a King to do? What is a Father to do?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Urd, Verdandi, and Skuld are the Nornir—the Norse Goddesses of Fate. Urd spins the threads of life. Verdandi weaves the threads into the Tapestry of the Universe. Skuld wields the scissors which cut each thread, determining the length of that person's life.

* * *

Odin had spent a sleepless night in his study. Even if he had been able to sleep, he knew he would find the door to Frigga’s rooms closed. He knew from their centuries together to let her have the night to herself, and they would sort things out after breakfast.

Which meant he had to have a plan by the time the morning meal would be served.

_I should have slept. I am weary._

He had been feeling the Odinsleep coming upon him, and had hoped to sort out the situation with Farbauti before going under.

_Not sleeping does not help to delay the larger Sleep._

The sun was rising, and he still had not been able to come up with a plan that he felt Frigga would accept.

 _Everyone should just do as I tell them. It would be so much easier_.

The air shimmered, and Odin found himself standing at the foot of Yggdrasil.

Urd, Verdandi, and Skuld did not pause in their work.

“Son of Bor.” Odin went to steady himself with Gungnir, and found it was not in his hand.

“Odin, Son of Bor.” Odin was uncertain which of the Nornir was speaking, and thus uncertain who to address.

“It is I who speak to you, Borson.” Verdandi looked up briefly from her work, and resumed weaving.

“What do you wish of me, Verdandi?”

“The choice you make today will create infinite ripples across the Nine Realms.”

“As do all our choices, Verdandi.”

“True. But not all of them carry consequences for all Nine Realms.”

Odin wished for Gungnir to steady himself. “What choice am I to make, then?”

“You know the choice before you: what to tell the Jotun child who lives in your palace, raised as your son.”

“And what am I to tell him?”

“You must decide that, Allfather. But know that the path you set him on this day will echo throughout the Nine Realms until the end of time. Your actions today shape the future for countless millions of souls.”

Odin reeled at her words. _That was not what I expected._

“Wyrd rarely is, Allfather.” Verdandi paused in her weaving, and looked him directly in his eye. “Choose well.”

“How am I to know—“

Odin’s words were cut off as he fell onto the divan in his study

He could feel the Odinsleep closing around him. He struggled up, and, balancing himself with Gungnir, headed for Frigga’s suite. He motioned for the guards outside of his study to walk with him.

* * *

Frigga was unsurprised that Odin entered her suite through the main door, instead of through the door which connected his rooms to hers.

Frigga was surprised, and worried, to see the beginnings of the Odinsleep swirling about him.

“Frigga. Please, help me to my chamber.” Odin was leaning heavily on Gungnir, and his vision was unfocused.

“Of course.” Frigga took his arm, and led him through the connecting door directly to his bed.

“I sent a guard for the boys. We must speak with Loki before I sleep.” Odin was walking in circles, albeit slowly, in an attempt to stay awake just a bit longer.

“What are we telling them?” Frigga wished for more time to discuss the situation with Odin before he went under.

“That Farbauti, realizing the love we as a family and Asgard as a world have for Loki, could not bear to tear him from his home. That he loves this son he has never seen so much that he would not hurt his son in such a way, and that Farbauti has agreed that it is best for Loki to remain in Asgard, and to live as an Aesir.”

Frigga bit her lip. She did not like it, but she knew they did not have enough time to work out any other plan. She had her own ideas, but there was no more time. At this point, she was unsure Odin would still be awake when the boys joined them.

A knock on the door to the bedchamber announced the arrival of the boys and their escort. Frigga opened and let only their sons into the room. “Guard the main door. We will be along presently.”

The guard bowed, and left. Frigga closed the bedchamber door.

The boys had put on their doublets over their nightclothes, but were otherwise still rumpled and confused at being awakened so early and rushed to their father’s rooms.

Frigga noticed Odin heading for his bed, so she began talking. “Your father will soon fall into the Odinsleep. As always, we do not know how long it will last. As always, we do know he will return to us.”

Both boys held their breath. This was not the first time their father had gone through this, but the familiarity made it no less worrying.

Odin spoke up. “The one last thing I took care of yesterday was meeting with Farbauti, King of Jotunheim.” Odin shook where he stood, even though he was clutching Gungir.

Thor tasted fear in his mouth. _The Jotuns are going to take Loki. I will never see my brother again._

Loki found himself shaking inside as his father shook on the outside. He managed to keep a calm expression on his face. _I do not want to go to Jotunheim._

“Farbauti and I spoke long, and considered many things. We agreed that the most important thing is what is best for Loki.” Odin took a deep breath. This was harder than he imagined it would be, and fighting off the growing darkness around the edges of his consciousness did not make it any easier.

“In the end, Farbauti decided that the wisest, and kindest, choice would be for Loki to remain here with his family in Asgard.” Odin’s vision was swimming. _Not yet. Not yet._

“Farbauti realized that removing Loki from the family and the people who love him would be unkind and unfair. He knows that, as much as he might wish for his son to return to him, that son no longer exists, and that Loki is well and truly one of our family, and one of our people.”

Odin struggled to focus, to see and to sense what Loki was feeling. Fighting the dimming light and speaking took all his strength; he would have to rely on Frigga to manage the rest, as she must manage Asgard during his dark time.

Odin gestured, and the boys rushed to him. He kissed Thor on the top of his head, “Remember to be a help to your mother, and not a worry.”

Thor nodded. The joy and relief of his father’s news was mixed with the worry about his father’s well-being, and Thor found that all he could do was squeeze his father’s arm in return.

“And you, Loki.” Odin pulled the boy to him, and wrapped his free arm around him. “We are your family. You are our son, and Asgard is your home. We love you, and want nothing more than you to know that you are well and truly one of us, always.” Odin kissed the boy’s forehead, and wondered if the tears he sensed were happiness—or something else.

“My son.” Odin kissed Loki’s forehead again, and fell onto the bed.

Frigga rushed forward as Odin collapsed. Gungnir fell towards the ground as Odin himself fell. Thor made to catch it, and missed. Loki found himself reaching for it, catching it before he knew he was doing so.

Frigga gestured to Thor to help her settle Odin comfortably into his sleep.

Loki, holding Gungnir, watched.

He had never touched the staff before. Gungnir could be wielded only by the rightful ruler of Asgard, which Loki was not. He was merely holding it for his mother, who would reign during the Odinsleep.

He felt the staff’s energy sensing his seidhr, assessing him. The room dimmed a bit, as though suddenly he were watching his mother and brother tend to Odin through a curtain, and without any sound.

Gungnir communicated with him without words, although somehow words were forming as though he heard them directly in his mind.

“You have much power, princeling.”

Loki held his breath.

“One day you, too, will have the chance to wield me.”

Loki’s head began to spin.

“Although Jotun by birth, you are Aesir at heart. Know yourself to be at home here. You have a glorious path ahead.”

Loki found himself shaking.

“Be wise, princeling. Use your powers well.”

The room was spinning, and Loki had no sense of direction.

His mother’s voice cut through the haze. “Thor! Help your brother. I will take Gungnir.”

He felt the staff lifted from his hands, and Thor putting an arm around him.

Thor’s voice was a beam of light in the dim and whirling world. “Loki! Lean on me. It’s alright.”

Loki slumped against Thor. “I am sorry, brother. I do not know what happened there.”

Frigga spoke softly, trying to reassure both her sons. “Even if one is not attuned to it, Gungnir is a powerful weapon, and will push seidhr through anyone who touches it.”

Holding the staff with one hand, Frigga reached out with the other hand to touch Loki. “It will take a few minutes, but the seidhr will dissipate, and you will be fine.”

Frigga turned and looked at Odin, sleeping in the golden haze of his magic. “He will be fine by himself for a while. We can take the time to eat, and start our day as usual.”

Thor began walking, one arm still supporting Loki.

Loki heard Gungnir in his mind, over and over again.

_You have a glorious path ahead._

Loki knew that this day, and all the days after it, would not be usual in any way, ever again.

 


	18. Meanwhile, Back on Jotunheim, Part IV

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Centuries have passed. Loki is now the equivalent of a 12-year-old in human years, which makes Thor all of 16 years old. Helblindi, the eldest son of Farbauti and Lacaia, is the equivalent of a four-year-old.
> 
> Lacaia returns from visiting her uncle, and has questions for Farbauti.

* * *

“Farbauti?” Lacaia’s voice broke through the stillness.

“Yes, Lacaia. I am here.” Farbauti had watched the sun set, and continued staring out the window into the darkness.

“Are you unwell? Shall I send for a healer?”

“I am fine, Lacaia. It has been a long day, that is all.”

“My uncle sends his greetings, and hopes you are well.” Lacaia’s voice was unnaturally even, not a trace of its usual musicality.

“And you conveyed him my good wishes as well, yes?”

“Of course, Farbauti. He appreciates your thoughts as he recuperates from this lingering illness.”

“Your aunt is well?”

“Yes, everyone is fine.”

Farbauti knew something was utterly wrong. Lacaia did not sound like herself at all.

“Something is bothering you, Lacaia. What is it?”

“Jorku was sleeping fitfully when I arrived, so I sat quietly with him.”

“That was a kindness.”

“When he woke, he was confused as to his whereabouts.”

“I am sorry to hear he still suffers.”

“He thought I was Laufey.”

Farbauti’s heart skipped a beat, anxiety filling his mind.

“I am sorry, my love. I hope you were not offended. He is not himself currently.”

“Farbauti, he swore me to secrecy. But what he told me, I must tell you.”

_What am I supposed to do here?_

_Perhaps it is not as dire as I think. Let her speak_.

“Of course, Lacaia. I understand the difficulty of the position he placed you in.”

Lacaia’s voice shook. “Farbauti . . . .”

“Jorku has no secrets from Laufey that would be a surprise to me. You may speak freely, Lacaia, and know that you cannot shake me.”

“Farbauti, he said that Vonir lives. That the prince the Asgardians call ‘Loki’ is actually your eldest son, Vonir.” Lacaia looked him directly in the eyes. “He said that you knew this. And that you chose to leave him in Asgard, instead of bringing him home for us to raise.”

 _This is not how it was supposed to be_.

“I cannot imagine where Jorku heard this information. Incorrect information.”

“Farbauti, he spoke as clearly as day. I believe him.”

“Lacaia, I—“

Lacaia cut him off. “You knew! Why did you not bring Vonir home? Why is he not here with his family?”

Farbauti shook his head. “Lacaia, I will explain.”

“Please do.” Her voice was as cold as the wind outside, a tone he had never heard from her in all their years together.

“When Odin contacted me to give me the news, I was overwhelmed by the idea that Vonir was indeed alive. Once I calmed down, I knew that I would bring him home, to be raised by us.”

“But you did not!”

“Not an hour after I had received the news from Odin, you came here, to my study, and gave me the news that you were expecting our first child.”

Lacaia remembered that day, and how excited and nervous she had been about telling Farbauti. She remembered Farbauti’s reaction, and how restrained he had seemed in the face of such joyous news.

“Why would that have changed anything? Vonir is your son by Laufey, but that does not mean I could not raise him, and love him, as my own.”

 _This is not how it was supposed to be_.

“Lacaia, you were so happy to be carrying our son, the next King of Jotunheim. How could I have told you that your dreams were unimportant? That Vonir would be returning to us, that our son would be the younger Prince, not the future King?” Farbauti’s anguish was plain on his face, and in his voice.

Lacaia shook her head. “How could you not tell me that Vonir was still alive, and that he would be coming home? He is your son, he is the future King of Jotunheim. Why would we not want him here?”

“Lacaia, I am sorry. It made sense at the time. That our son would succeed me, that our new life would complete Jotunheim’s revival with our son on the throne when the time came.”

“Vonir is your _son_. How could you leave him in Asgard, to be raised by those barbarians?”

“How could I bring him back here, Lacaia? How could I pull him from the only home he has known, from the people he knows as his family, to bring him to a cold, dark world where he knows no one, a place that is filled with bloodthirsty monsters who eat Aesir children?” He looked at her sharply. “You do know that is what the Aesir tell their children about us? That if they are bad children, the Jotuns will snatch them in the night, and eat them whole?”

“Vonir could come home, and be with his family, and learn the truth about his people. We could love him as our son, and teach him proper Jotun values to offset what the Aesir have lied to him about all these years. He would ascend the throne when it is time, and be a wise king, with his brother as his advisor. Why would you deny him?”

“Lacaia, please understand my decision. And if you cannot understand it, at least respect it. I did what I thought was best for Vonir and for Jotunheim.” Farbauti’s voice caught. “And for you.”

“You could have spoken with me about it, Farbauti!” Lacaia had never been angry with Farbauti, not like this. “Why did you hide it from me? Do you think me so weak as to be unable to love Laufey’s son as my own?”

Farbauti shook his head. “I do not think you weak, either then or now. I simply could not imagine destroying your happiness at Helblindi’s coming birth with the news of Vonir’s return to Jotunheim.”

“My happiness? How would having another son to love destroy my happiness? Do you think I envy Laufey, or resent your time with her? I had thought that issue well-settled before we married, Farbauti.”

“Lacaia, please—I made what I thought was the best decision for all.”

Lacaia rose. “Think again, Farbauti.”

“Lacaia—“

“It is not too late to bring Vonir home.”

“Lacaia—“

Farbauti watched as she strode out of the room, leaving the door open.

 _This is not how it was supposed to be_.

 

 


	19. He Is My Son

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The next day. Odin is attempting to attend to his duties. His work is interrupted in a most unexpected manner.

 

Odin stared at the silver orb on his desk, pulsing with pale light.

_Probably Alfheim._

_Again._

He considered ignoring the orb, and checking the mirror later.

_Might as well get it over with._

Odin stepped into the small side room where he kept the speaking glass. He opened the curtains which hid it, and unsealed it.

The glass shimmered, and Farbauti appeared.

Odin could not have been more shocked had he seen a mortal in the glass.

“Good day, Odin.” The Jotun’s voice was tight with stress.

Odin drew strength from Gungnir and calmed his own voice. “Good day, King Farbauti.”

Farbauti was clearly in no mood for pleasantries. “Last time we spoke, Odin, you gave me news which I had never expected to hear, and was not prepared for.”

Odin nodded. “I meant no disrespect, Farbauti.”

“At that time, my land and people had not fully recovered from the wars. As such, it was not a propitious time to hear from you.”

Odin nodded, worry creeping into his mind.

“The ongoing peace has been good for my realm and my folk. We are comfortable, and famine and plague no longer haunt our land.”

Odin drew more energy from Gungnir, willing his mind to remain clear.

“And now is the time for Vonir to return home to the land of his birth, and his real family.”

_No. There is no Vonir. There is only Loki._

“You ask much, Farbauti.”

“It is not much to ask that Vonir return to Jotunheim. He is my son.”

Odin’s temper flashed. “You sired him, Farbauti, but that does not make you his father. I sheltered him from the battle, and brought him safely to Asgard. I sat with him as he chewed on my fingers to ease his pain when teething. I taught him to walk, to read, and to fight.”

Odin paused, seeing Farbauti’s anger rising.

“And when you denied him, Farbauti, _I_ was the one who had to tell him a lie, to assure him that you were not truly rejecting him, that you let him go out of love and a wish for his happiness. _I_ am the one who felt his tears when he learned that you, his would-be father, would not take him, or even acknowledge him.”

“I had no choice, Odin!” Farbauti was struggling to let go of his anger at the other king, and to keep focused on his goal of Vonir’s return. “Jotunheim was still ravaged from the war. How could I have brought him to such a place? Would _you_ have done so, if the situations were reversed?”

Odin, too, struggled to keep his anger in check. “Of course not! The boy’s welfare is the foremost concern. And given that, how terrible it would be for him to learn that, after you denied him, you now wish to claim him? After what he felt was your abandonment of him, you now want him? There is no Vonir, only Loki. And that is why I say to you now, Farbauti, that Loki will remain in Asgard the rest of his days.”

The Frost Giant’s eyes narrowed. “You cannot keep my son from me, Odin. Vonir _will_ return to Jotunheim.”

“No, Farbauti, he will not. You relinquished all parental claims those many years ago, and it is much too late to ask for them to be restored.”

Farbauti growled. “He is my son, Odin.”

Odin shook his head. “No, Farbauti, He is _my_ son.”

With a wave, Odin closed the connection, and the glass went dark.

Odin drew the curtain over the glass, and left the room.

* * *

Evening had fallen quickly. Frigga was unsurprised to find Odin sitting in his darkening study.

“Odin, are you well?” Frigga’s voice cut through Odin’s cloud of thought.

“Yes, I am fine, my dear.” Odin attempted a smile. “I am sorry. I missed supper with you and the boys, did I not?”

Frigga’s voice was neutral, but her eyes were tight. “Yes. Again.”

“I am truly sorry, Frigga. I did not mean to disappoint you. Or the boys.”

“Odin, they are growing faster than you realize. I know you have much to do each day, but you must make time for them. They are quickly growing into men, and need their father.”

“You are correct, Frigga. I will make more time for them. I promise.”

“Odin, you cannot promise lightly. They need a type of guidance I cannot give. I can teach them to be kings, but you must teach them to be men.”

This was not the first time they had had this conversation, almost exactly word for word. Odin felt helpless to change things, even as much as he felt he must change them.

“Odin, you used to meet with them each day to review their studies. You could still meet with them each day to discuss their activities—and actions.”

He nodded. Frigga was right, of course. It had just been so easy to let that go, to fill the time with other duties.

_Nothing is more important than my sons. I must make time._

“Something troubles you, Odin.”

He shook his head. “Nothing troubles me, Frigga. I have simply allowed myself to become preoccupied with things that are less important. I will let them go, and focus instead on what is truly important.”

Odin stood, and took Frigga’s hand. “Being with you in the evening, and with our sons during the day. Being with the ones I love.”

Frigga kissed her husband. Things would be better.

 


	20. Meanwhile, Back on Jotunheim, Part V

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> You knew it was going to happen.

Loki is now the human equivalent of 20, which makes Thor 24 years old.

* * *

Loki checked his appearance one last time. Short-cropped blond hair and slightly ragged beard, light blue eyes, chunky build. Plain brown clothing, working class, slightly worn. He couldn’t appear more typically Asgardian and still be credible.

He stepped into the passageway, and began walking. His seidhr lit the dim path through the mountains, and kept him insulated from the chill of the cave. He knew he would have to turn it off before emerging at the other end of the tunnel. As much as he enjoyed the idea of showing off his magic to his expected audience, he knew it was better to appear a completely average person for this meeting.

He felt the chill reach through the air just before the last turn of the passage. He stopped, turned off the seidhr-light, and strode forward. He walked around the turn, and out the passageway, into the snow and darkness.

There was no going back now.

“Welcome to Jotunheim, Asgardian. The King awaits you.” The Jotun’s voice was low, but smooth. Loki recognized him as the man in armor from the scene in the Temple which the Casket had showed him. The years had sat lightly on him, all things considered. Loki was intrigued, and filed the information for later consideration.

“I will follow.” Loki nodded.

“Beware, Aesir-man. If the King believes you come in bad faith, or to waste his time, there will be no mercy.” The Jotun’s eyes were hard.

Loki smiled, the picture of cooperation. “I believe His Majesty will be pleased with what I have to say.”

* * *

Sirel escorted the blond stranger to an infrequently-used sitting room at the far end of the palace. “Wait here”, he commanded, and locked the door as he left.

Loki appreciated that a fire was burning in the room, and noticed a carafe of dark liquid on a warming tray on the table next to the fire. Thoughtful courtesies from a supposedly savage people.

_As I do not know what it is, I will forgo finding out._

As always, Loki did not mind the cold. However, to keep up appearances, he moved next to the fire, and pulled his cloak tightly around him.

The door opened again, and Sirel entered the room, followed by the King.

“Asgardian, bow before King Farbauti.”

Loki made an intentionally awkward bow, in keeping with the persona he had assumed. Doing so also allowed him to cover his own feelings

_This is my father._

Loki recognized some of his own lines in Farbauti’s face. While Loki was nowhere near as tall as the Jotun King, Farbauti had a certain ease of movement that Loki recognized in himself.

_I will not think about that right now._

Sirel continued. “My King, this Asgardian claims he has important news for you. Had he not been so insistent, both in presenting the news and his vow that he does not come from Odin, I would not have agreed to have him speak with you.”

Farbauti’s eyes were dark, and narrowed as he regarded Loki. For a moment, Loki wondered if the Jotun’s seidhr was strong enough to pierce the glamour he had set. He had heard much of Farbauti’s abilities as a warrior and a leader, but he had never heard him mentioned in connection with magic.

“Speak, Asgardian. I have no time for foolishness.”

_He does not see through. Let us proceed._

“I appreciate your time, King Farbauti. I will be quick.” Loki smiled.

_What if I revealed myself to him? Would he embrace me? Murder me?_

_No one on Asgard knows I am here. No one would ever know._

“The Allfather will soon pass into the Odinsleep. He has delayed it overly long, in hopes of seeing his eldest son become fit to rule while he is—unavailable.”

Farbauti’s face remained expressionless. “From what we have heard, he must wait a very long time.”

 

_Now or never._

 

_Choose a realm._

 

_Choose a people._

 

_Choose a father._

 

Loki took a deep breath. “The Prince is, shall we say—unprepared—for his duties, unlike the exemplary behavior which Asgard hears of your son.” Loki paused for the compliment to sink in.

Farbauti’s face remained expressionless. _My son is a hostage in Asgard. I hear so little, I have no idea what his behavior might be._

Loki cleared his throat. “Nonetheless, the King insists that Thor will rule during the Odinsleep, and has scheduled the coronation for three days from now.”

_Of course Odin would not put my son on his throne._

“What has this to do with Jotunheim?” Farbauti was out of patience.

Loki’s smile widened. “Only that, during the ceremony, every Asgardian will be in attendance at the event, with no thought for any danger.”

“You are suggesting?” Farbauti was beginning to have his own ideas about how to make the most of this unexpected opportunity.

“I will lead three of your men into Asgard, and into the palace. From there, I will take them to the Vault, that they may recover what is rightfully yours.”

_My son. I want my son._

Farbauti’s tone was even sharper then he had intended. “And that would be?”

Loki dropped his voice for effect. “The Casket of Ancient Winters, of course.”

Farbauti’s suspicious nature asserted itself. “And why would you, an Asgardian, assist us in accomplishing this?”

“While I may appear every bit an Asgardian, the treatment I have endured at the hands of its royal family have gained them no loyalty from me. As I cannot take action about my own state, I will take action against them as I can.”

Loki’s heart felt crushed in his chest. Though he had practiced that lie in his head, he had never spoken it aloud. The words sank like darts into his heart.

Farbauti sat in silence. __If I cannot have Vonir, I can have my power. Jotunheim can have its heart restored, even if mine cannot be.__

Loki tried to dismiss the feelings pouring through him, doing his best to remain focused on maintaining his glamour, and waited for Farbauti to speak. He appreciated how easy it was for him to steer Odin’s thoughts in comparison to dealing with his Jotun father.

_Stop thinking of him like that. You just met him. You do not know him._

Farbauti made no effort to conceal his contempt for the would-be traitor. “What has the House of Odin done to you that merits treachery such as this?”

Loki closed his eyes, and the false glamour faded, showing his official Asgardian appearance.

_I am doing this for the good of Asgard. Thor is not ready for the throne._

“Do you not recognize me, King Farbauti?” Loki’s smile conveyed a confidence he did not feel.

Sirel snarled as his hand went towards his dagger. “What games do you play on our King, Aesir-man? Did I not warn you?”

“Cousin, please. Stay your hand.” Farbauti did not dare to believe the hope that had just sprung to life in his heart. “Go on, Prince Loki.”

“So you do recognize me. It has been a while. I was but a young boy then, and was asleep through the meeting.” Loki relaxed, and allowed himself to enjoy the effect he was creating on this small stage.

Sirel turned to Farbauti. “My King, if he would betray his own King—his own Father!—he is not to be trusted.”

Farbauti shook his head. “Cousin, you are about to learn something you can speak to no one. _No one. Ever.”_ Farbauti looked Sirel directly in the eye. “If you do not wish to keep such a secret, I command you to leave, now.”

Sirel stood firm. “Whatever you ask of me, my King, you know I will do. But I do not trust a traitor.”

Farbauti permitted himself a faint smile. “Prince Loki, please, show my cousin what he has not yet realized.”

Loki closed his eyes, and the Aesir glamour fell away as he opened them again.

Sirel gasped. “My King! It cannot be!”

“Do you recognize me now, Uncle?” Loki’s satisfaction at Sirel’s shock was the most pleasant feeling he had experienced in years.

* * *

Loki, once again in his blond Everyman glamour, waited at the mouth of the cave. Sirel had been prompt for all of their prior meetings.

_Come on, you cannot be late. I have places to be, and a tight schedule. There is a coronation happening, in case no one told you._

Loki refused to consider that the Jotuns had crossed him. _That is my part in this play._

Moments later, Sirel appeared, followed by three heavily-armed Jotuns.

“These are the men?” Loki looked at Sirel as though he were slightly intimated.

“Yes, Asgardian.” Sirel’s smile was taut, an attempt to cover his nerves. The past three days had been excruciating. He had committed all kinds of acts in service to his King and cousin. Keeping this secret had been the most difficult task Farbauti had set him. “Three of our most highly skilled fighters. They have never been defeated.”

“Excellent.” Loki surveyed the Jotuns, and hoped that he had not overestimated the Einharjar guarding the Vault. “Let’s go. We have little time.”

Loki turned and walked into the cave, the three Jotuns following behind.

 

_And you know what happens next . . . ._

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you all for joining me on this adventure! Your comments and reviews have been wonderful to read, and helpful to me as a writer. I appreciate every one of them, and every one of you!


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